Way Out Of Character
by eternalglitch
Summary: Neither Izuku nor Shigaraki is sure what exactly happened, but a few days after their encounter at Kiyashi-Ward Shopping Mall, both wake up only to find out that they have switched bodies. As the two become increasingly tangled in each other's secrets, can they return to their original bodies? Or are they trapped like this forever? Rated M for coarse language.
1. Chapter 1

There is a hand on his face.

More importantly, it's not his hand on his face, and it's not warm either.

So. Based on Izuku's lightning quick deduction skills, this means either he has a fake hand on his face- ridiculous really _because how on earth would it have gotten there_ \- or there is a dead person's hand on his face, which is perhaps even more ridiculous but hundreds of times more concerning.

Letting out a muffled shriek, Izuku reaches up to grab the offending hand, wrenching it off with far more effort than it really should have taken, as the hand seems to almost resist his efforts, remaining stuck on his face with a clammy grip for a few lingering seconds before finally releasing its hold. After he succeeds, he sits there, panting, and swallows. _Please be a prank from Kirishima,_ he thinks. _Or Ashido. I don't care who got me, just let it be a prank._ He slowly gets his breath under control and forces himself to look down at it.

Well. Hmm. That's… yep, that's a real-life, dead hand all right.

It's so pale it is almost white, and rather than a bloody mess at the wrist, it has a golden cap. Ironically enough, now that Izuku has gotten a good look at it, he's no longer worried about the fact that there was a dead person's hand on his face.

Oh no, now he's _extremely_ worried that there was one of _Shigaraki's_ dead person's hands on his face.

Did these hands also turn things to dust? Oh god, they _better_ not be able to turn things into dust. Had it been gripping his face with all five fingers? He hadn't checked. But his face didn't particularly hurt, and Izuku was fairly certain the hands were just unfortunate decorations for Shigaraki and not actually related to his quirk, so maybe he is okay. When- why had Shigaraki put it on his _face-_

Izuku's head snaps up as he realizes that he's been so invested in the hand that he has forgotten to check his surroundings. Which is also one huge gigantic mistake, because this is not Izuku's room, this is not UA, this is nowhere Izuku has ever been before. He's lying on a sofa, a TV playing next to him without sound, but the rest of the room is fairly dark. His lips sting, and licking them just makes them feel worse, so he must have been out of it for a decent amount of time.

Has the League of Villains captured him? He's not sure.

There are weights on his wrists, but they're not the typical feeling of handcuffs. Izuku holds his hands up only to nearly bite his tongue as he chokes back another yelp. More hands. And, now that he's looking, he's feeling the sensation of being tightly gripped all over; on his shoulders, his arms, in his hair, on his _neck-_

Izuku scrabbles at himself, plucking every hand he could find off of himself before dropping them in a pile beside him. He jerks to his feet, reaching for One for All, but there is only a distant echo, still there but somehow unreachable. It was not unlike what happened when Aizawa-sensei was using his quirk on him, which is better than nothing at all, but at the moment all Izuku cares about is the knowledge that he is all alone, probably with Shigaraki nearby, and his quirk is not functioning.

No. No, no, no, this is _not happening,_ this can't be happening; Izuku was asleep at home, he is sure of it. Was it a nightmare, a result of running into Shigaraki at the mall the other day? Or did they come to his house and take him- oh no, his _mom-_

In his panic, he put his hand down on the couch, and he is forcibly startled out of his panic attack when the furniture starts to dissolve at his touch.

Or, to put it better, it starts to _decay._

These. These are not his hands either.

Izuku holds them up in the dim lighting, flipping them over. They were much paler than his own hands, and his scars have simply evaporated much like the unfortunate piece of sofa next to him.

"Was I hit with some kind of body transformation quirk?" He mumbles. "But how would that have worked, the League doesn't have anyone like that working with them that I know of- maybe they started recruiting again? But why would they use it on me, Shigaraki would normally just kill me if he got me all the way over here- not to mention I don't think it could mess with One for All like this even if they tried something," Izuku mutters, brow furrowing as a different but mildly familiar voice replaces his own. He starts scratching his neck. His hair feels too long, and it is driving him crazy, causing his skin to crawl with discomfort. As his fingers move right over his Adam's apple, they ghost over the tell-tale marks of scabs, and Izuku freezes.

Dead hands all over him. A decay quirk. Damaged neck and longer hair. His lips are still hurting, like he hasn't drank water in a long time. And…

…and Izuku does not like where this was going.

"Okay. Mirror, I need a mirror," Izuku whispers, getting to his feet. He scans the room but comes up with nothing, and he's not quite brave enough to head into the hallway just yet. After a moment, Izuku starts to pat down his pockets- _not his pants, these are someone else's_ -, jerking as he by accident ruins part of them with his touch. Luckily enough, he finds what he is looking for: a phone.

He struggles to not touch it with all of his fingers at once, and swipes up to open the camera and flip the view around to point it at himself.

Izuku would like to say that he is pleasantly surprised, that this has all just been wild conjectures with no real outcome, that he is still being pranked by his classmates or about to wake up in his bed at home _right now._

But to say any of that would be false, and if he wants to survive this, it is best to come to terms with it.

Midoriya Izuku looks exactly like Shigaraki Tomura.

Either this is a ploy by Shigaraki, a mere appearance change (unlikely considering the status of Izuku's quirks right now), or something has gone terribly wrong, and Izuku is in Shigaraki's body.

Izuku drops the phone on the sofa and covers his face- _Shigaraki's face-_ with his hands and groans. More and more questions are piling up in his brain with every passing second, but first things first, he needs to call someone _right now_ and get some help.

He struggles to unlock the phone, relieved to find that Shigaraki also uses the fingerprint unlock option, and pulls up the number pad. He starts to type in All Might's number before he hesitates, wondering if he should try his own first. Because if he's in this body, then that means Shigaraki is in-

"Shigaraki Tomura," a voice calls, the door swinging open. Izuku jumps, breath shuttering in his throat as he turns and sees Kurogiri standing there. His grip tightens, and his gaze snaps back to land on the phone just in time to see it crumble into dust.

There's a moment of silence as Izuku tries not to let out a distraught keen as he watches his ticket out of here be destroyed purely by his own clumsiness. Kurogiri coughs awkwardly, his yellow eyes blinking once.

"…again?" He finally asks with the tone of a man who has put up with this shit way too many times. "You broke your last one only two weeks ago."

 _He doesn't know,_ Izuku thinks hysterically. "Uh. Well," Izuku stammers. He watches the dust drain from his hands, and slowly shakes them free of the remaining powder. "It was the phone's fault," Izuku mutters, unsure of how the two interact. He chooses to speak informally, because he can't imagine Shigaraki caring to use formalities with anyone but All for One, and is relieved when Kurogiri merely nods.

"I see. But, seeing as we're busy today, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until tomorrow before we can get you a new one."

"Wha- no, no, I need to have a phone _today_ ," Izuku protests, but Kurogiri waves him off.

"I'm sure your other video game consuls will be fine for twenty-four hours. Until then, I have all of the contacts and scheduling on my own phone." Kurogiri nods, and then pauses to look him up and down. "Muscular is here, and we can finally start the meeting." Kurogiri's yellow eyes narrow, and Izuku swallows as he seems to give him a disapproving shake of his head. "But first, please put on some new pants. I'm aware you dislike dressing… _formally…_ but the hole-in-the-pants fad is just pushing it."

Izuku looks down at his ruined pants and then back up at Kurogiri, who is still staring at him. "Um. Can I borrow your phone first?" He hopefully asks the villain, but seeing Kurogiri's unenthusiastic expression as he glances down at the piles of gray powder and back up at Izuku, Izuku sighs. "Fine," he settles on, turning away, and biting down on the urge to press the issue. "I'll be out in five."

Kurogiri bows and slips back out, quietly shutting the door behind him.

Izuku paces, eyes roaming the room for some kind of escape or weapon. Without a phone, he needs to get out of here fast, or find a phone elsewhere. Because, face it, Izuku doesn't have confidence in his villain acting skills. Where is Iida when he needs him, anyways? Iida probably can get into character a lot more effectively than he can.

Izuku chuckles at the memory of their first combat exercise before he sighs and runs a hand through his long hair, not used to the length and the way it kept getting in his eyes. Well, staying in this room won't help. He quickly opens several drawers and finds several pairs of black clothing and throws on a new pair of pants, ignoring the several pairs that he destroys by accident as he roots around. He's ready to venture outside now, but passes by the pile of hands and pauses. He knows he's too expressive, and the last thing he needs is to give himself away when Shigaraki has a convenient way to hide his face already in place.

But. The _hands._

"You can do this," he tells himself sternly, hesitantly picking one of the offending appendages back up. "Just some dead hands. Which you'll be wearing. On your face." Izuku grimaces. "Nothing horrifying about that at all." He thinks that there are differences as to which hand is which- wasn't 'Father' supposed to go on his face? He has no idea which one that is. He puts the largest one up to his face, biting his lip when the hand latches on with little prompting. He makes quick work putting the other thirteen hands back where he had found them, immediately deciding with every additional hand that this is, in fact, ridiculous.

Stumbling a bit as Izuku adjusts to his limited sight, he wanders to the doorway. He takes a deep breath, trying not to think about the faint scent of formaldehyde, and pushes the door open. He slowly steps outside, looking down a dark hallway that offers no hints as to where Kurogiri has gone. On one hand- _ha_ , he thinks dryly- he could just pretend it was too much work to have listened to Kurogiri and go wandering. If he finds him, he finds him. Shigaraki _did_ strike him as a very petulant type… his hands wander up to his neck, uncomfortable at having two hands there. He can still clearly remember Shigaraki laughing as he strangled him at the mall, red eyes glinting as the villain knew Izuku had no choice but to quietly sit there and take whatever pain he had wanted to inflict.

 _Don't,_ he tells himself. He decides to go left on a whim, and starts walking, slightly stooped over but walking with purpose. The walls have some scattered posters on them, giving off the feeling of a condemned building. His mouth feels dry, and he wonders if All for One is in this very building. Part of him wants to know, knows that if he wants a chance to gather information on All for One's plans, now would be the opportunity, but the rest of him is too worried to follow that train of thought. Getting info is useful, but making sure Izuku's body- Shigaraki in it or not- isn't hurting his mother and friends is much more important. Because either Izuku's been replaced with a murderer, which is admittedly bad, or his body is comatose right now, and he honestly doesn't know which is worse, since either could scare his poor mother and friends half to death.

He lets out a shaky breath, aware that his hands (the actual ones) are slightly shaking. "I'm fine," he tells himself sternly. "I'm fine, this is fine, I just have to-"

"Tomura~!" A voice calls, and Izuku stiffens so suddenly he almost stumbles and falls over. He slowly looks back over his shoulder, wondering who has appeared.

A girl skips towards him, blonde hair in two messy buns. She's grinning, and something about her expression makes Izuku feel wary even without having to be told she's here for a good reason. Despite her high school uniform and pleased expression, she's _dangerous_.

"What is it?" Izuku rasps, trying to narrow his eyes at her through the space between the fingers of the hand on his face.

The girl giggles, skidding to a halt a couple of feet from him. "What? Not gonna call me a 'snot-nosed little shit' anymore? Have you warned up to me already? I'm so happy!"

Izuku… isn't sure how to respond to that. Is she new to the League of Villains? From the sound of it, it can't have been more than a few weeks since she joined. And if Shigaraki doesn't care to call her by name, Izuku is safe even if he doesn't know hers. He can do this. "You're still… that," Izuku mutters, not quite comfortable cussing at someone he has just met. "You haven't earned my respect yet, brat."

"Oh? And what do I have to do to do that, Tomura?" She laughs, as if there'd been a joke in what Izuku had said. "Just give me a number. I'll bring you back the equivalent number of heads!" She blushes, eyes misting over as she looks away from Izuku and seems to get lost in her thoughts, and Izuku has to steel himself from stepping backwards.

"No. Just stay put until you can make yourself useful," Izuku grits out. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go-"

"'Excuse you?'" The girl parrots back, openly amused at his usage of this phrase, and Izuku feels his stomach drop as he realizes his mistake.

"That- it is just an _expression._ I thought you'd implicitly get that I meant get the hell out of my way," Izuku quickly snaps. His hands are still slightly quivering, and he tucks them close together to stop them for shaking, scared she'll see-

Something silver flashes, and Izuku's hands instinctively dart up, grabbing a knife seconds before it buries itself in his shoulder. The knife crumbles away to nothing in his grasp, and Izuku lets the particles fall to the floor.

There's a beat of silence.

"Did you just- did you just try and _stab_ me?" Izuku demands. _Don't sound scared,_ he orders himself. _Sound mad. Shigaraki always sounds mad. I own this place, everyone here works under me, it's okay, it's okay, it's okay-_

"Yup!" His assailant says nonchalantly, grinning. "I had to make sure you weren't an imposter, after all~!"

He can't breathe. The hands around his throat are tightening, squeezing, he's going to be strangled, he's messed up- no. No, he has to be _better_ at this.

"Why the fuck would I be an imposter," Izuku snarls. His voice catches in his throat, but it sounds more like rage than anything more incriminating. _Channel my inner Kacchan_ , he tells himself. _Just make it a hundred times creepier_. "You think I don't make sure spies don't get in? Huh?"

"Well, I was just checking! No need to fuss about it," she argues back, her expression suddenly shifting into something much colder as she eyes Shigaraki seriously. "Besides, can you really blame me? After all," and here she leans forwards, eyes half-lidded. "That's _my_ quirk's job," and she smirks like she just told Izuku the best secret ever before abruptly spinning back around, apparently starting to walk back.

Izuku stares after her, the implications of a quirk made for infiltration churning in his head, when the girl looks back over her shoulder. "Well?" She calls. "Aren't you coming?"

Shoot. Izuku closes his eyes for a second, taking a moment to try and force himself back into some spectrum of being calm. "Where?" Izuku manages to ask over the static in his head. He needs to get away, but there's no way to do that if she raises the alarm that Shigaraki's acting weird.

"Kurogiri sent me, silly! He said you're needed for this meeting! Planning for the kidnapping of the U.A. student and the whole attack, you know? What'll we do without our boss there?" The girl says, mouth curling back into that same terrifying predatory smirk.

And Izuku stands there, his thoughts scattering into the wind as all he can manage to think is _please, god no, not again._ And then his feet are moving, taking him back the way he had come, towards the villains and into the belly of the beast.

"Fine, let's get this damn meeting over with, then," he hears himself say, and all Izuku can do is hope that he's doing the right thing.

And if he's not, well… he probably won't have to worry about his mistake for too terribly long. He doubt they'd let him survive for more than a few days once they put Shigaraki back in this body.

* * *

The first thing Tomura sees when he wakes up is All Might's face, making this maybe the Second Worst Morning he has ever had.

And, oh no, it's not _one_ picture of All Might that he's looking at, either; it's some kind of god forsaken shrine to the man.

If this is Kurogiri's idea of a joke, he's going to need a new party member _immediately_.

Tomura grunts and gets up, loudly cracking his neck before taking an abrupt swipe at the nearest offender: an eyesore of a small figurine that is just asking to be decayed. He grips it tightly and grins, waiting to see the number one hero crumble away to dust… except instead of that, All Might's disgusting face just stares back, that stupid grin taunting him.

"What?" Tomura growls. He startles briefly, confused because his voice sounds high pitched and squeaky. "What the hell's going on?" He pauses, considering, and is about to get up when he looks back down at the object in his hand. "This is pissing me off," he says before narrowing his eyes at the figurine and chucking it as hard as he can at the far wall, only mildly appeased as it knocks down three other pieces of All Might shit. He looks down at his hands, confused to find his nails short and clipped, not to mention his oddly tan skin and scars which were definitely not there yesterday.

His eyes dart around the room, pointedly ignoring the various eyesores before he strides over to a mirror hanging on the wall. Staring at his reflection for a moment, Tomura finds himself unable to formulate an exact response to what he finds there. After a long stare, he lets out a hiss through his teeth, scratching at his neck until he feels the welcoming sensation of blood, and watches as Midoriya Izuku does the same. "What the hell is this?" He asks the mirror. "Some kind of fucking side quest?"

Midoriya Izuku has an unimpressive face. Freckles are _everywhere,_ like someone had flung mud at the brat's face and it had stained. His hair is irritatingly curly, and his eyes are much too wide and everything about this picture is _infuriating._ Worst of all, he just _looks_ like an NPC despite his tendency to meddle, and Tomura is no NPC. Besides that, he'd already said the next time he saw this shitty face was when he'd decide to kill him so _why-_

Tomura stiffens. He slowly looks down, lips pulling back into a snarl as he beholds the god awful All Might pajamas he is wearing. In large yellow English letters, 'All Might All Right' is written across his chest with yet _another_ visage of Tomura's most hated enemy. He doesn't know if Midoriya had known this shit was going to happen, but that does absolutely not matter at this point because either way that little brat has made Tomura wear All Might _merchandise_ and for that he is absolutely going to make him pay.

After he yanks the shirt off and throws it on the floor, Tomura dumps out several drawers looking for clothing that is half-way decent. He has no idea why half of the shirts have stupid writing on them and the other half are yet more hero merchandise, but he settles for a black short-sleeve that just says 'shirt' on it. While he's at it, he pulls on some pants, annoyed all of the long-sleeve clothing seems to have been packed away for the summer.

After another glance at the mirror, Tomura drums his fingers on his arm, thinking. He isn't exactly sure what has happened, but it's making his head hurt and he promptly decides to put off thinking about it for the moment. Instead, he takes at least ten minutes to rip down all of the All Might posters and knock everything off of the countertops, nodding to himself when everything is absolutely wrecked, decay quirk or not.

"Now that that quest is done," Tomura starts to say, trying to decide what to do next, when suddenly he hears a knock and an unfamiliar voice calls through the door.

"Izuku, sweetie? Are you okay? What were those noises?"

Who? Perhaps Midoriya's mother. Should he kill her? That would be entertaining, murdering the little shit's own mother with his own body and ridiculous quirk. He could even frame Midoriya for it all, and ruin his career as a hero in a far more spectacular way than any simple hero's death would achieve. Tomura takes a deep breath, concentrating on his arm and expectantly waiting for green lightning.

…nothing.

Was this thing even on?

Tomura shakes his hand, eyebrows slowly creeping down as one of his eyes twitched. "You've got to be fucking kidding me." How did one go about activating a quirk, anyways? He hadn't ever needed to know that crap, it just _happens_ for him. Was he stuck without a quirk for the time being?

"What was that?" The voice persists, grating on his nerves. He nods to himself, deciding on just going for old fashioned strangulation, when she continues speaking. "Hurry up, Izuku, you wouldn't want to miss your last day at school before the break!"

Before he realizes what he's doing, Tomura wrenches the door open. "What," he asks.

A short, round woman with the appearance of a dead head of lettuce blinks back at him, for some reason smiling and cheerful despite how obviously terrible a mood Tomura is in. "Your last day! After school we can start packing for your school trip, okay?"

"After school?" Tomura repeats thoughtfully, scratching his neck. Suddenly, he feels a lot better, and it's easy to make a quick decision. "Ah, yeah. That, of course. How… thoughtless of me."

"Oh- Izuku! You're bleeding," the annoyance comments, reaching up and pulling his hand down. "Geez, did mosquito season start early? I'll get you some ointment and bandaids while you get dressed."

Tomura bit back the comment that he is, in fact, dressed, thanks a fucking bunch, but he remembers just in time that the U.A. brats all wear uniforms. He gives the woman a jerky nod before retreating back into the room- and yes, he resists glaring at the All Might name tag on the door, even if it takes a decent amount of energy to do so- all the while using his body to block her view of the destroyed room.

Once again he has to go through all the drawers, finally pulling on the uniform. He struggles with the tie for about thirty seconds before chucking it to the side, already pissed off at his failed attempts. God, he hates ties. He has no skill points for dressing formally, but that doesn't matter. Normally no one he cares about or is important enough dares make him wear a suit. Kurogiri may try, but at least it is in an irritatingly familiar tone rather than an infuriating condescending one.

He glances in the mirror one more time, glaring sullenly at his reflection. He didn't have anything to worry about with his actual body- Sensei is smart and powerful enough to realize Tomura isn't actually there, and will take care of it until he gets back. Tomura almost wishes he can see the brat get caught, although the thought of his own face having those warped, naïve expressions _did_ piss him off considerably. Ideally, by the time Tomura returns to the base, not only will he have more knowledge of All Might's weaknesses, but also Midoriya Izuku will be at his mercy.

He has a few things to answer for, after all.

Tomura starts humming the background music of a video game before exiting the room again, slipping a phone from the counter side into his pocket and shutting the door firmly behind him. While killing the mother would be satisfying, he doesn't have the power to do so right now, and he has bigger EXP to gain from other players first. He knows where Midoriya lives now; he'll be back.

Sensei will be proud of his planning, he's sure.

"Oh, Izuku, here!" The mother greets him, holding out bandages. Tomura bares his teeth at her, taking them and gritting his teeth to keep smiling as he applies them.

"Thanks," he manages to say.

The woman gives him a lingering look- Tomura can't read what emotion is flickering in her eyes, nor does he care enough to try- and nods. "…of course, Izuku," she says. And then "is everything okay?"

It sounds suspiciously like doubt, and Tomura pauses, smile fading. Maybe he should try and kill her after all- but then again, a chance to infiltrate U.A. High School and see it for himself, outside of the intel his spy has passed on. "Nothing," he lies, his face hurting. How the hell did people smile this much, anyways? "Just a bad dream, nothing to worry about."

"If you're sure," she responds. After a moment, she turns back around to the countertop. "So, breakfast?"

"Not interested." Tomura locates a book bag by the door, pulling on a pair of eyesore red shoes and standing back up to yank open the front door. "Bye," he adds flatly.

"Oh- have a safe trip!"

The door slams shut behind him, and Tomura lets out an annoyed huff. "Irritating," he repeats. He stands there for a moment, turning his head as he tries to figure out where he is. He fishes out Midoriya's phone from his pocket with one hand, unlocking it with a finger's touch and typing in U.A.'s address. Nodding to himself, he sets off, a sneer on his face and a mad glint in his green, green eyes.

* * *

No one even looks twice at him as Tomura slips inside U.A. High School. It's exhilarating, as Tomura rarely does stealth quests. He's more of an upfront battle royale kind of player, but he could honestly get used to this. He doesn't know where Midoriya is supposed to be, but that doesn't worry him since he's just going to go look for All Might for the time being. Or, that was the plan a least, but a girl with short brown hair and the boy related to the downed hero Ingenium appear.

The two startle when they see him, the girl waving a hand while the boy clears his throat. "…honestly, Midoriya, it's bad enough that Bakugou-kun dresses like that, but that doesn't mean you should follow his example," the annoying boy with square glasses immediately says.

"What?" Tomura snaps. What was it with everyone telling him how he should dress? "I'm wearing the damn uniform."

The two students exchange glances, and Tomura resists the urge to start scratching his neck. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Does Midoriya cuss? He didn't hear him cuss even when he had had Midoriya in a life-or-death situation, so perhaps not. Whatever. It's not like the first thing these idiots would think of is Tomura having taken over this body with a little bit of odd behavior.

"Well, yes, you are, but your hair does look unkempt- did you even brush it this morning?" Glasses says. "Not to mention your lack of tie."

"Well, maybe I'm tired. I'm not trying to impersonate Bakugou or anything," Tomura grits out. "So just leave me alone for today."

He doesn't remember many U.A. student names- just the top four or five, that was all that was needed. Neither of these two are particularly important, so Tomura has no idea what they are called. But the girl had been the one to interrupt him at the mall- he remembers that much. She is somewhat on his "people I'll get around to killing" list, but then again, most hero types are. She is nothing special, just a simple, boring, naïve child that is getting in his way.

Not waiting to see what they do, Tomura roughly brushes past them, just in time to hear the girl mutter "Bakugou?" under her breath in a puzzled tone.

He thinks they're finally taking the hint and leaving him alone when a hand closes in around his wrist, unafraid of being metaphorically burned. "Wait," Square Glasses says.

" _What_."

The boy flinches slightly under his caustic glare, shifting slightly as if his confidence has suddenly fled out the window. "Class is… class is the other way," he finally answers. "…seriously, Midoriya, are you doing all right? If this is about the incident at the mall-"

"If I say it is, will you leave me alone?" Tomura growls. "But fine, if you insist, sure, take me to class. It's not like I come here every day or anything, _right_?"

* * *

Tomura can't fucking do this.

It's by far the worst thing he's ever had to do, and that's saying something, because he's done a _lot_. But sitting through English class with a teacher that won't _shut up?_ With a _screaming quirk_ of all things?

With bleary eyes, he shifts to check the clock and nearly shoves his desk over right then and there. He has been sitting here. Bored to _death_. For only _ten minutes._ He shifts his glower to whatever NPC happens to be in his line of sight.

Bakugou Katsuki is sitting in front of him, which is interesting enough. He's not really taking notes, leaning back in his chair towards Tomura. If he wants to, he could wrap both hands around the younger teen's throat and squeeze. It would be easy; there are so many openings in every brat's pose here, as if they expect they're safe here.

How disgustingly simple-minded.

Tomura clenches his hands again, trying to call on Midoriya's quirk. Still nothing, so he digs the short nails into his palms and squeezes until he knows for sure that he is bleeding. His gaze slides back and he turns a bit to see the full classroom. He recognizes Endeavor's son, and the two from this morning. The brat with the bird head is also vaguely familiar- did he stand out during the Sports Festival? He can't remember, so probably not important. One girl- Yao-something- is also a recommended student, but that's about it. None of these other NPCs look particularly powerful, so why they're considered to have the most potential to become shitty heroes is beyond him. He supposes it could be-

"-Midoriya-san? Oi, kid!" Present Mic says, interrupting his thoughts, and Tomura tunes back in just in time to cover his ears from the damn teacher's prattling.

"What?!" Tomura snaps.

The loud-mouthed idiot frowns at him. "Hey, hey, kid, that's not cool! Address your teachers with some respect! I asked if you knew the answer to exercise-"

"I don't know the damn answer."

Present Mic stares at him, and Tomura lifts his chin and stares back, crossing his arms and leaning back. If he moves to touch him, Tomura could use his chair or books to attack him with, and he doubts the idiotic heroic ideal would allow the man to attack his precious student.

But the hero merely moves on, asking some other brat instead and continuing the lesson. Tomura merely stares out the window, fingers tapping on the desk as he bides his time.

For the rest of the lesson, he feels the weight of several gazes on his back. But he'll deal with that shit later.


	2. Chapter 2

Izuku is sitting at the counter of a bar, staring down at a picture of himself- or rather, at a picture of his actual body-and wishing that he could sink into the floor. The picture is from the Sports Festival, Izuku's eyes narrowed and focused, his arm already badly broken. His eyes trace his face, and his stomach knots itself into even more intricate shapes as he wonders if he'll ever have that body again. He knows it's highly likely that this shift is temporary, and worrying about it is useless at this point, but his mind keeps returning to this issue with an incessant feeling of panic building in his chest. It's not helping him stay calm, that's for sure.

"Ooh, isn't that the infamous Izuku-chan?" The blonde-haired girl from earlier chirps, leaning closer and closer to Izuku until it's at the point where he can smell the faint tinge of iron from her clothing. _It's probably from blood_ , he thinks bleakly, pointedly not looking up at her as he keeps his gaze on the tablet. "He's so cute! Why would you put him in the kill list, Tomura? He's too cute to be killed! I can only imagine what he'd look like with a lot more blood," she continues, sighing wistfully.

Izuku tries his best to not look like he is scooting away from her in his seat, but that is precisely what he is doing at the moment, not liking the look in her eyes one bit.

"Now now, Himiko Toga, don't get distracted. We're not after that one," Kurogiri speaks up from behind the counter, purple mist flickering slightly. The girl- _Himiko_ , Izuku corrects, glad to have a name at last- sighs, but hops up onto the seat next to him. Kurogiri nods, setting down the glass he has been cleaning. "Shigaraki Tomura, do you wish to be the one to go over the battle plans?"

Izuku glances towards him, mind blank. Battle plans? If he knew what plans Shigaraki has in store, he wouldn't have done something so stupidly risky as coming to this meeting. "You go ahead," he says instead. "You can explain it better to these…" _People? Villains? What's a word Shigaraki would use, anyways?_ "…Players better than I can. I don't have the patience to go over everything again."

Kurogiri's mist flickers once, but the man calmly nods. "Of course. Then, I'm sure everyone here knows that U.A. is having their summer training camp soon, correct?" He waits long enough that several people nod, and then continues. "We plan on attacking the camp while they have their guard down, damaging the reputation of U.A. permanently while also grabbing a few assets."

"Assets?" A guy asks from where he is leaning against the wall in the corner. His eyes are a piercing blue, but what really stands out to Izuku is his patchwork skin dotted over with silver staples. "Since we're not attacking the actual school, I'm assuming you mean kidnapping."

"That is correct," Kurogiri affirms.

Izuku's eyes dart back to the tablet in front of him, using a single finger to scroll over to study the other list, which is much smaller than the one his photo is in. He pauses, drawing back in surprise, as he attempts to understand the connotations of what this means for the face staring back at him. He tries to swallow even though his mouth is painfully dry. "Bakugou Katsuki," he says, the words tasting foreign on his tongue. Oddly enough, it feels like he's watching his body from above because he feels numb and nauseous at the same time. "We're taking Bakugou Katsuki from U.A."

"Yes, as you requested, he's one of our two targets. The other one, a pro hero that goes by the handle of Ragdoll, is requested by someone else that works in the upper levels of this organization," Kurogiri says. He picks up another glass, calmly cleaning it. "Shigaraki, can you pass the photos around so everyone can see our two intended targets?"

 _No,_ Izuku wants to say. _No, you can't see them because you're not getting them, not if I can help it._ But he can't, he _can't_ , because he's at the mercy of the villains in this room, and he's never felt more helplessly angry than he is in this moment. So, resisting the urge to clutch the tablet in his hands and watch it turn into dust, he wordlessly picks it up with three fingers and passes it to Himiko.

As the tablet is passed from hand to hand, Izuku tries to see which members of the League of Villains he recognizes, or at least tries to guess their quirks. There's an uncomfortable amount in the room, and Izuku is reminded yet again that he is in way over his head.

He's familiar with Kurogiri and, more recently, Himiko Toga, who probably has some kind of illusion or shapeshifting quirk. Invisibility could also be a possibility, but with how she phrased her earlier off-putting comment, he strongly suspects a shapeshifting ability.

The guy leaning against the wall that had just spoken looks… familiar. Izuku can't say for sure, but he feels like he's seen those eyes somewhere before, but that's ridiculous, because there's no way he could forget someone with that much scarring. The scars look almost like burns, but oddly evened out and made a stylistic choice, and Izuku wonders if someone did this to him or he did it to himself. Both answers have more questions behind them that Izuku isn't sure he wants to hear the answer to.

Beside him is a reptilian guy with brightly colored clothes and lots of bandages. In fact, now that Izuku is looking, between his pants, bandages, and red scarf, he sees a resemblance to Stain's clothes that is too similar to be a mere coincidence.

His gaze lands on one, a tall, muscular man in a tanktop sitting with his arms crossed. He looks bored, but there's something calculating in his single eye; the other one is robotic, clearly due to the large scar that stretches across his face. Izuku tries not to stare, but he could have sworn he recognizes him from somewhere. A news report? An article? He's not sure. It bothers him, but he hopes that once he escapes he can search online and be able to remember who it is.

There are others; a figure with a mask and an orange trench coat wearing a top hat, a muscular person with sunglasses and red hair, a man wearing a skintight black and white bodysuit, a person with a gasmask and a slim body – that one's probably a gas related quirk-, among others. But none seem to command the same presence, at the moment, that the other ones hold. Izuku guesses that some of the other villains are newer here, or are less of a central part of the organization, since they don't appear to be paying as much attention to Kurogiri. One of the ones that isn't paying attention looks like he's in a straight jacket that covers his entire body, and it's clear just from looking that he's barely lucid. There's about a dozen villains here though, and they all must be powerful. He can;t gleam much more info from then, but he notes any small hints from their clothing or mannerisms that could be used for identifying them later. Izuku then shifts, his gaze drifting back to the bartender in question, trying to focus on what he was saying.

"Our spy should have the location soon, and I will update everyone with the plans then." Kurogiri nods, setting down the glass. "Muscular, since you're a well-known target, I have arranged a disguise to at least get you onto the sight without your advantage being discarded before you even begin. Please wear it."

The man with the robotic eye- Muscular- scowls. Right, Kurogiri had mentioned Muscular earlier, hadn't he? "Really? It's not like I'm going to be holding back at all against those brats, I'm looking for an actual fight here, not tip-toeing around like a pansy trying to keep my name unknown. There's no point in a _disguise_."

"Are you willing to risk the chance to fight at all over it?" Kurogiri replies, golden eyes narrowing. Muscular's scowl deepens, but he looks away, and Kurogiri nods. "Excellent. Well then, anything to add, Shigaraki?"

"Uh," Izuku stutters. He dislikes cussing, as he's always viewed it as somewhat bad for a hero that wants everyone- regardless of age- to look up to, but at this moment that's not the look he's trying to go for at all. Well, if he's going to do this, he's going to commit. "Just do your jobs properly and don't fuck it up."

The cussing makes him feel much like he's wearing an ill fitting jacket, but it seems to do the trick. Rule one for impersonating Shigaraki: add copious amounts of cussing, Izuku notes. One by one, the villains nod and slink off towards a door that is on the opposite side of the room from where he entered.

An exit.

Izuku is standing before he even registers he's moved, and he also heads over to the exit.

One of the villains is standing there, cold blue eyes staring down at Izuku as he approaches. "Aren't you acting strange today," the villain comments, and suddenly there's something about the hard set of his shoulders, of his calm voice, of his blue eyes, that screams Endeaver in a way that Izuku isn't comfortable of thinking about.

Izuku tries to step around him, but the villain follows, a challenging smirk on his face. "Am I getting in your way, boss?" Izuku stares back at him. He's taller than Shigaraki, and his eyes don't waver for a second as he leans forwards. "Tell me, do you really think kidnapping a teenager is going to help us? I understand attacking the school and all, but I doubt anyone from U.A. is interested in joining us, or even worth the effort."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Izuku asks back, coming to a standstill. His skin crawls, but he doesn't scratch it. Instead he concentrates, trying to remember every detail of his conversation with Shigaraki. What would he think the objectives here are? "If it moves us any closer to the checkpoint, isn't that a good enough reason?" He licks his cracked lips, the slight pain helping him focus. "Besides, doing this will horrify the heroes. After hitting them not once, not twice, but three times when they think they are secure? What do you think that will do to their moral?" He says, and oh, Izuku can imagine what it will do to their moral. He can imagine it so clearly that it's like he's already there, watching it happen and hearing his classmates scream in pain and terror. He grits his teeth, lifting his chin up. "Aren't you interested in that?"

Blue eyes narrow in thought, and the burned villain looks like he's about to say something before shrugging. "True, I suppose I can see how taking one of those brats could help, actually. Don't worry, I won't disappoint you when I'm in the field. Our goals are almost perfectly aligned right now, after all, and I still have to show my thanks for that monster you gave me."

"You-" Izuku starts, but the villain has already turned and started to leave, opening the door and exiting with only a single glance back, expression amused. Izuku stares after him, confused, before he blinks and remembers he has somewhere to be. He starts to quickly follow, his footsteps speeding up, and he reaches for the door himself.

"Shigaraki," Kurogiri says sharply, and suddenly he is standing in front of Izuku, blocking his way. "You're still needed here. We can't risk you going out alone again so close to the mission."

"What? What does it matter if I go get some air? The mission isn't for several days; I'm not going to go to the other side of the world," Izuku protests. He tries to step around Kurogiri, but the villain shifts, effectively blocking him with each step. Yellow eyes stare down at him.

"Please, Shigaraki. Don't make this difficult," he starts to say, when a speaker crackles to life in the bar behind them.

"Actually, Tomura, I would like a word," Izuku hears, and he slowly turns, staring at a television screen with no image. It's like the world is softly dialed back to black and white, and abruptly there is only the soft sound of the speaker's feedback, the man speaking, and Izuku himself.

Because there's only one person that can be. One person that Izuku isn't ready to face, doesn't know how to face, and even if he did, he had always expected it to happen with One for All blazing in his grasp.

"All for One," Izuku says softly. His mouth has gone dry, and he thinks his lips have cracked because he tastes the familiar tang of blood.

He could make a run for it. And yet, how far will he make it? Kurogiri is still standing there, and with his quirk alone Izuku is facing a huge hurdle. And now that All for One is here, Izuku doesn't know how many or which quirks are currently trained on him, pointed like a gun posed to shoot fish in a barrel. Izuku wants to scream, wants to see All Might and hold onto him and ask him what to do because this is too soon, and he is not ready.

He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath of the scent of death and decay, and opens his red eyes. "Of course, All for One-sensei, you know I could never refuse you," he says, forcing his voice not to shake. "What would you like to discuss?"

"Not here," the mastermind's voice replies. "Kurogiri, please open a warp portal to my location for Tomura. I doubt it will be a long discussion, so I will call you again after our talk is complete."

"Of course," Kurogiri responds, bowing. A black warp opens up in front of Izuku, and he stares at it. He's hyper aware of the door behind him, and a voice inside of him says to run while he can because his luck won't hold out forever. His hand twitches, reaching up slightly to feel for the doorknob, but All for One's voice crackles over the speakers again.

"Now, Tomura, if you please. Don't keep me waiting."

There will be a chance after this, Izuku tells himself desperately. There must be, somehow, somewhere, the villains will slip up. They'll take their eyes off of him soon, if he can just keep up this front for a little bit longer. All Might is strong enough to be able to smile in the face of danger, and as his student, even if the effect of the smile is different, surely Izuku should be able to do the same thing.

Izuku pastes on a crooked grin, lowers his hand, and takes a step further into the darkness.

* * *

The second the teacher's footsteps fade out of the classroom's hearing range, voices explode around Tomura.

"Okay, what's wrong with _you_?" Bakugou asks roughly, twisting around in his seat. The student's eyes are a red that Tomura only now notices are quite similar to his own. The similarity is further enhanced by how they're currently glaring, a rage and annoyance reflecting back at Tomura that he is quite familiar with himself.

Tomura scowls, crossing his arms. "I don't know what you mean."

"You _cussed._ At a _teacher_. Not to mention a pro hero! Am I the only one that finds that fucking weird?" Bakugou demands, his hands sparking as small explosions go off.

"Are you one to talk?" Tomura asks, giving the angry teenager a cursory once over. "You cuss and act this way all the time. You're doing it now. It's not a big deal. Fuck off."

"What- I- You're trying to derail the conversation, _Deku._ Answer the question!" Bakugou snaps.

Tomura raises his eyebrows, leaning forwards on his desk as he takes in Bakugou's blazing red eyes. Deku? Isn't that Midoriya's hero name? For whatever reason, it sounds different with Bakugou's emphasis on it. Almost like a derogatory comment. Was Bakugou trying to start a fight here? Tomura wants to laugh in his face. How very unheroic! He knew that this teen would make a good fit for the League of Villains, and here he is, proving Tomura right. Putting more and more points into villain attributes despite saying he wants to make the hero class. Tomura grins, baring a confident smile at Bakugou and shrugging. "You know, Bakugou, I think you'd make a pretty good villain."

Bakugou's face goes still for a moment, eyes widening, and the entire classroom seems to go silent the second Tomura says those words. Tomura swallows, feeling his grin falter, as his fingers nervously twitch. One of his hands slowly rises to his neck and he scratches, the sound amplified in the silent room.

Luckily the moment is quickly ended when Bakugou slams his hands down on Tomura's desk, burn marks already appearing, and starts yelling profanities at him, but it's too late: Tomura's messed up, saying that. That is not something that _Midoriya Izuku,_ idiotic aspiring hero, would ever say to someone. Shit. That was one of his three lives wasn't it? He doesn't want a game over so soon. He'd never hear the end of it from Sensei, or worse, what if he fails in Sensei's eyes?

No, no, no, that won't do. That won't do at all.

"Bakugou-kun!" Glasses says, the girl from earlier and a boy with red hair all close behind him. "That is not appropriate language or behavior towards a fellow student!" Tomura smirks at Bakugou's expression, but glasses' head snaps over to stare him down as well. "And you, Midoriya! I expected this of Bakugou, due to his unfortunate tendencies, but, regardless of how bad a day you may be having, that comment was also not proper hero behavior at all!"

"It came out wrong. I am…" Sorry? No, he's not, not even remotely. "I didn't mean to say that. I took it too far," Tomura says flatly. "Just forget it happened."

"Maybe you should go to see Recovery Girl," the girl presses on. "Or ask to be excused for the day? It's clear you don't feel good."

"I _already said-"_ Tomura starts to hiss, but the door swings open and Eraserhead appears, looking tired and detached. Everyone immediately quiets down, watching attentively as the hero enters the room.

Is that scar by his eye Tomura's work? It's enough to distract him from his foul mood as he feels his lips tug upwards a bit, and he leans his face into his palm to hide his smile.

"We're having a training exercise after lunch," Eraserhead drones. "Get your athletic clothes on and meet me outside at field eight at the start of the period. Don't be late."

"Aw man, after lunch? I'm going to puke," a boy whines, Eraserhead not even acknowledging the comment.

"We aren't having a closing ceremony?" The girl beside Tomura asks, and Eraserhead shoots her a deadpan expression.

"No."

The bell chimes, and some of the other students start shoving books into backpacks and noisily getting up, although none actually left, lingering by the door as Tomura can feel their stares in his general direction.

"Well, shall we go to lunch then?" Ingenium's brother asks, adjusting the glasses on his face. The girl with him nods, and they turn to Tomura, waiting.

"Go on ahead," he mutters, not interested in playing this ridiculous good student farce for any longer than necessary. "I have some stuff I need to do." He gets up, shoving his way past the other students. Exiting the room, he wanders away from the other students to go search for the teacher's lounge without glancing back, when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

"And pray tell me, Midoriya, what it is that's so important for you to do?" Eraserhead asks, crossing his arms and studying Tomura. "A word, please."

"What?" Tomura snaps. "You as well? What do you want?"

Eraserhead raises an eyebrow. "I just said what I wanted. Clearly something is going on with you today, so since you seem to have already elected to skip lunch, it gives us some time to talk."

"But- You can't… _fine,_ " Tomura grits out, hands curling into fists. Two lives left, he reminds himself. He can't be wasting his time, but this must be an unskippable cut scene. Annoying, but unfortunately required for his progress. "What is it?"

Eraserhead glances down the hall. "Perhaps not here. Let's take this discussion to the teacher's lounge."

The hero leads the way, Tomura trailing behind as he scans the halls for All Might's hulking eyesore of a body. They arrive in front of a room, and Eraserhead holds the door open with a simple pointed look. Tomura is only slightly focused on that pro hero though, still searching the hallway. No, no, he's not there, where was he? Did he decide to skip the last day of school? What a cheap fucking move to make-

"Ah, young Midoriya! I actually wanted a word with you!" A deep, unmistakable voice greets.

Tomura goes rigid. Slowly he looks over, seeing none other than the Symbol of Peace himself lounging on a sofa inside the room. He can't help but smile slightly, one hand instinctually rising to scratch at his bandages on his neck. Ah, here it is. The game's main plot has finally begun.

Tomura starts to move to go over to All Might, but Eraserhead shuts the door and steps in front of him. "All Might," he greets coolly. "I need to have a quick private talk with Midoriya, so would you mind stepping out for a few minutes? This shouldn't take long."

All Might's smile seems to diminish for a few seconds, the bright blue eyes turning to Tomura to stare at him with an intensity that made Tomura wonder if he's imagining it. "Oh? What about? Has young Midoriya done something wrong?"

 _Why the interest_? Tomura shifts, every cell alert in his borrowed body. Was All Might this nosy about all of his students? It could be that Midoriya's similar quirk has raised interest in him, not to mention the disgustingly clear adoration of All Might. Which means that Midoriya must look at All Might like he's Sensei which is-

Eugh. What a repulsive thought. No way is Tomura going to do _that._

"Nothing major," Eraserhead says coolly. "It's between Midoriya and me, anyways. No need to worry, All Might, I have it under control. I _am_ also Midoriya's teacher, so trust that I have his best interests in mind."

"Er… yes, of course." All Might nods. "Didn't mean to sound like I questioned your judgment or anything, of course! Well then," the fake hero's eyes sought out Tomura's again, and All Might nods at him. "I'll catch you later then, my boy."

"Yes. You will," Tomura promises, eyes narrowing at the hero as he fails to completely hide the pleased grin on his face. "Count on it."

All Might nods again, and – even by Tomura's standards- awkwardly excuses himself as he leaves the room.

Tomura watches him go, lost in thought, when Eraserhead loudly clears his throat. "Take a seat, Midoriya."

The teacher watches him, eyebags dark and face expressionless. Or perhaps there is some expression, but the thing is, Tomura _doesn't care_. He doesn't want to take a seat and _listen_ , he wants to attack him, wants to dig his fingernails into his throat and have his quirk back so he can finish what he's started, but All Might is right here in his grasp and _why is everything so frustrating_.

He plops into the sofa with crossed arms and scowls. "Okay. What."

"I heard some of your conversation with Bakugou when I was in the hallway," Eraserhead says. "Not hard to do, when everyone is making such a racket but." Tomura shifts, staring sullenly down at his bright red shoes. Is this going to be a lecture? Is Eraserhead suspicious? His foot taps, and he can't help but shift as his skin itches.

"Midoriya. Are you sure you don't need a therapist?"

"I- what?" Tomura's head jerks up, unable to hide his surprise. This wasn't what he was expecting at all. "A- why the fu- no. I'm _fine_." He squares his shoulders. "Why would you think I needed something useless like _that?"_

A _therapist_? Really? Over- over what, his five-minute encounter with Midoriya at the mall? Are heroes so weak that they need to- to talk out their issues over ridiculously simple things that shouldn't even _matter?_ No wonder Sensei says that Tomura is strong. He's never needed to discuss something like his _feelings_ with anyone. He's perfectly fine the way he is, and he's gone through much worse than some NPC like Midoriya.

Eraserhead, however, looks less convinced than Tomura that what he had just said was a ridiculous suggestion. "It's not useless." He leans forwards, dark gaze serious. "Midoriya, you are a student. Part of what you need to learn here is when to take care of yourself. Whether it be physically," and his eyes dart down pointedly to Tomura's hands, the ones with scars on them. "Or mentally. From the sounds of it, you're not okay from the scare you had at the mall over the weekend. If you're truly struggling, then talking it out- finding ways to _cope_ \- are just as important as other types of training."

"I don't need it," Tomura grits out. He knows that Eraserhead isn't even talking to him, he thinks he's talking to _Midoriya_ about _Midoriya's problems_ , but at the same time something about a hero telling him he needs help rankles him. He doesn't like the feeling at all.

Eraserhead stares at him for a moment longer and then nods. "Very well. Then, moving on; I hope you do know that, even though you did have a rough time recently, that gives you no excuse to take it out on others. Calling someone a villain was an action not suitable for an aspiring hero. I am aware that Iida already discussed this with you, but, as your teacher, I felt it important to address here and now. I won't tolerate this kind of behavior, understand?"

What the hell? It's not like Tomura just told Bakugou that with no context at all. Tomura hadn't said anything that hadn't been _true,_ after all. "And what about Bakugou?" Tomura demands, rising to his feet and flexing his hands. "He clearly started it. Is that your fucking idea of heroic behavior? Is _this_ a hero's idea of fair?"

" _Midoriya."_ Eraserhead doesn't move, but the look in his eyes shifts. "I fully have plans to address Bakugou's behavior at a latter point, but-"

"You have no right to preach to me," Tomura snaps. He shakes his head. "No. No, I'm done- this is stupid, stupid- I'm leaving." He stalks towards the door, ignoring the quiet threats from behind him, and loudly slams the door shut as he leaves.

Tomura stands there for a moment, chest heaving, as he turns slightly to look back over his shoulder. He's not pursued, but the victory feels meaningless, and there's this hollow sensation in his chest that pulses slightly as he stands there. He shifts, head swiveling as he seeks out any hint of where All Might has gone, but he can't see anything obvious. The trail has run cold. Tomura bites his lip, tasting the tang of blood, and then whirls, punching the wall hard enough for it to _hurt._

"Fuck!" he snaps in the quiet hallway. His hands go to his pockets, searching for Father _– and talking to Father is different, different, Tomura is strong_ -, but they come up empty and all he can do his grit his teeth and try not to scream. This is hard, it's stupidly fucking hard, and he should just call it a game over already and go home, he knows it. But Sensei hasn't given him any actual info, and he's not sure if this is a test or- or- whatever. He runs a hand through his weirdly curly hair, eyes dilated and breath still refusing to return to any semblance of a consistent rhythm.

"…Fuck."


	3. Chapter 3

Ochako looks down the hallway, tapping the pads of her fingers together nervously as she exchanges a long look with Iida. "Is it okay to just let him go off like that?" She worries. It's not that she doesn't have confidence in Deku or anything, but his actions today really haven't been the determined, kind boy that she's known since the beginning of the year.

Iida adjusts his glasses, but he's also frowning. "Aizawa-sensei is talking to Midoriya-kun it seems," he says. "I'm sure that whatever it is, he'll be fine. He's stronger than he looks… even after an encounter like what he went through last weekend."

The two lapse into silence as they watch Deku slink after Aizawa-sensei down the hall towards the teacher's room, and Ochako sighs. "I still feel guilty, though," she mutters.

"It's not your fault-"

"I should have found him sooner that day! I ran off and left Deku alone and- and- he got attacked by _Shigaraki!_ " Ochako hisses. "I just- I _feel_ like it's my fault. I don't feel like a hero, I… I feel like I let my close friend down."

Iida turns and looks at her for a moment, face solemn. "We all went as a group to the mall, Uraraka," he states. "None of us should have left him alone like that. It's equally my burden, for failing to coordinate groups. I wasn't acting like a class president at all, either. And Midoriya paid the price for my mistakes yet again."

"Oh, Iida..." Ochako says, but he doesn't respond, his jaw clenching slightly as he stares after Deku, expression torn.

The two stand there, until Kirishima yells down the hall at them. There's lots of other students chatting as they go to lunch, so it's hard to hear exactly what he's yelling, but Ochako picks up the later half as a reminder to hurry up before all the good lunch seats are taken. Bakugou is standing next to him and scoffs, already starting to walk and leave them behind.

"…okay!" Ochako smacks herself with both hands on the face, and Iida startles, jerking backwards. He stares at her, and Ochako grins at him. "We're not helping anyone right now, are we?" She asks. "Deku wouldn't want us to worry about him like this. We just have to be there for him, and accept that he's working through this. We know him, after all." She turns to look down the hallway where he had vanished for one last, lingering glance. "He's got this. Now come on, before Bakugou says we were too slow to save seats for at lunch again."

* * *

Izuku has to admit, he has absolutely no idea what he's doing. He swallows, forcing himself to try and control his breathing by counting how long he inhales and exhales. _That's right, just breath. Breath and don't think about how close you are to having an absolutely train wreck of a meltdown_ , he instructs himself sternly.

The room is dark. The only thing Izuku can see is the bright light of a computer screen, its pale white glow leaving him with hints of the shape of the bed and the person next to it. In the stillness, a steady quiet beeping perturbs the atmosphere, exactly the same sound that Izuku has heard many a time in the hospital and in Recovery Girl's room.

"Ah, Tomura. Welcome back," a voice greets him. "Come sit down."

Izuku swallows, feeling sweat accumulating under the pallid hands that he is hiding under. He slowly approaches the bed, eyeing the chair next to it before gingerly sitting down. He knows that he shouldn't be showing any fear or hesitance, but he can't completely help himself. It's like One for All has imparted a deep, instinctual fear of All for One directly into Izuku's spirit, and he can't help but obey.

The figure turns towards him, and his breath shutters for a moment, his eyes widening. All Might might have received incredible damage from the last battle with All for One, but he certainly wasn't alone in that aspect. "Tomura," All for One says, voice level. "Haven't I told you it's rude to wear all of your hands inside?"

"I- Yes, of course. Sorry," Izuku stutters. He starts pulling them off, quickly leaving them in a pile next to him. He's not sad to see them go, but as bad as their suffocating grips have been, feeling vulnerable like this is much, much worse. He goes to pull the one on his face off, but All for One stops him with a wave of his hand.

"No, you can leave that one on. I know how much you care for it," the super villain says. Izuku suspects this might be his teasing voice, but he can't tell. Everything that All for One does has this confidence to it, like it's planned out rather than genuine. "Besides, it's not like I can see your face anyhow."

There's a beat of silence as Izuku sits there, unsure of what to do. If he knew Izuku was wearing the hands, but says he can't see- not to mention that horrible damage to his face-, there must be some kind of detection quirk at work here. Echolocation, perhaps? That's one quirk more that Izuku is aware of, but it's nowhere near enough. Izuku doesn't know if All for One has a lie detection quirk, or a mind reading quirk, but if he does then he's screwed. If he can sense emotions, he's in less trouble, but still looking death in the face. There are so many quirks that come to mind that could doom Izuku, and the more he thinks about it the more he wishes he knows which ones All for One has.

"So," All for One finally says. "Do you know what I want to discuss?"

"No, All for One-sensei," Izuku murmurs. "Is it about the upcoming U.A. raid?"

All for One cocks his head, listening for something. "Yes, correct," he answers, folding his hands together and leaning forwards in the bed he's resting in. "I wanted to discuss the plans you had mentioned to me last time we talked."

 _Oh, no._ Izuku is restless, wanting to fidget. He doesn't know what tells would seem unlike Tomura, so he rubs his neck, hoping it's close enough to the itching that Tomura normally does. "Of course, All for One-sensei." He hesitates, studying the other figure. "…which part of my plans are you thinking of?"

All for One's mouth twitches, like he's trying not to smile. "The part where you and Kurogiri stay behind for the actual raid," he states. "I'm very proud of you for deciding to do that."

 _What?_ Izuku stares at All for One, aghast. Kurogiri hadn't mentioned this. Although Izuku has full plans to escape from here and return back to U.A. before the raid, with being called to meet with All for One Izuku has run into a snag in that plan. The class is supposed to leave for the U.A. summer camp at eight am, and after that Izuku knows they aren't allowed to tell anyone where they are. The school is even telling them to turn off any GPS trackers on their phones they might have set up with their families. Meaning that if Izuku isn't home by then, he won't be able to warn them in time. Even if he goes to the principal, looking like he is he's not sure that they'll trust him and get his message to Aizawa-sensei in time.

So slipping off to talk to the heroes during the start of the raid itself was the best backup plan Izuku had thought of.

"Well," Izuku says gingerly. "I was thinking that might not be necessary after all."

"Oh?" All for One asks. "Do explain that line of thought."

He takes a deep breath, and straightens up slightly in his seat. "A lot of the villains going on this raid are new," he ventures, remembering how Himiko had mentioned that she hadn't been here for that long. "I'm not sure that I can leave an important mission up to them. If I go with them, it might be a better way to avoid a game over. I just think-"

"It's not a problem." All for One waves him off, turning away for a moment. The bed creaks softly with the redistribution of weight, and Izuku barely manages to withhold a wince. "All of the villains being sent on this mission are powerful enough, Tomura. No need to second guess yourself now."

"But I-" Izuku tries, but All for One's head turns back slightly, the slight action enough for Izuku to stop cold.

"That's **enough**. Stay with your original plan and remain in the base with Kurogiri. Consider it a test on your leadership skills, rather than your actual battle abilities." All for One pauses for a moment before his voice softens again. "Don't worry so much, Tomura. You're doing a great job and I'm fully confident you'll be able to fully follow in my footsteps soon enough."

Izuku slowly nods, keeping his eyes on All for One the entire time. The transition from scolding to honeyed words was too fast to be natural, he thinks. He's often wondered what could have happened to Shigaraki, to make him someone capable of attacking children and being so twisted he exists in a world seemingly separate from everyone else. Now, he has a very clear idea of just what has transpired. How long has All for One had Shigaraki under his grasp? How long has he emotionally manipulated Shigaraki into becoming his puppet? It's been barely five minutes and already Izuku can clearly read the mastery that All for One has over knowing what to say to someone to make them do what he wants. It's only Izuku's luck that All for One isn't actively targeting his personal weaknesses, nor does he know that Izuku is watching out for signs of manipulation like this.

"Thank you, All for One-sensei," Izuku murmurs. "I'll- I'll do my best to live up to your expectations."

"Hm," All for One hums. "See to it that you do. Well then, Tomura, I have said my part. Is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"

"No. I should be getting back to Kurogiri," Izuku says, standing up to collect his pile of freaky dead hands and taking a step backwards, away from All for One. "So if you could call him for me…"

"Of course." All for One, reaches over, tapping a button on his keyboard. "Kurogiri? Tomura's done here. Please open a portal."

There's barely a ten second wait before Izuku sees the familiar black portal. It's funny, in a dark way, because he never imagined there'd be a time where he'd be relieved to see it. Izuku steps towards it, but then All for One's voice makes him freeze where he stands.

"By the way, Tomura… any reason you're acting so strangely today?" All for One asks, almost sounding disinterested had Izuku not been listening for the steel behind the words.

"S-Strange? I don't know what you mean," Izuku stalls, turning back.

All for One face tilts towards him, and if he had had eyes Izuku is sure they would've been narrowed. "You've never called me anything other than 'sensei' before. Why the sudden formality?"

"I," Izuku stutters. He feels nauseous, and wants to sit back down from the sudden rush of fear that fills his veins. "I just- you know," he continues lamely. "I didn't want to seem like I was overstepping my boundaries by questioning your judgment and am… just nervous about the raid. I want it to go well this time, since I keep failing you…"

All for One doesn't respond for a moment, and Izuku holds his breath, afraid to hear his fate but resolving himself to just get it over with. "Let's not keep poor Kurogiri waiting, then," All for One finally says after what feels like an eternity of waiting. "But Tomura, remember- I care about you. There's no need to worry about formality between us so long as you do your best to follow my orders."

"Y-Yes. Of course, sensei. I won't let you down," Izuku agrees before slowly backing all the way into the portal. In a rush of cold air, Izuku steps out back into the bar, pale faced (luckily that shouldn't stand out particularly badly with Shigaraki's skin color) and barely keeping himself from openly shaking.

"Welcome back, Shigaraki," Kurogiri greets him, one hand waving away the portal. "How did it go?"

"Fine," Izuku grunts. His stomach pangs slightly, and he's not sure if it's his nerves taking their toll or if he's hungry. Either way… "I'm gonna go out for food," he tells Kurogiri. "I'll be back soon."

He waits, holding his breath and hoping Kurogiri will accept his excuse, but he's already shaking his head slowly. "No need for that," Kurogiri informs him. "I already stocked us with food today. I left some in your room as well."

 _Great. Because why wouldn't he have done that,_ Izuku thinks dryly. He rubs his head with one hand, feeling exhaustion settle over him like a heavy blanket even though it couldn't have been much later than noon. He can't plan anything like this. Izuku stands there for a few seconds longer, quiet, before nodding at Kurogiri.

"Fine. Then I'm done for the time being," he says softly. "…come get me if any new info on the raid comes up."

"Of course," Kurogiri bows to him, Izuku turning on his heel and quickly exiting the room, shutting the door behind him. The maze-like hallways extend in front of him, and Izuku lets out a deep breath.

"Okay, Izuku. Now what?" He asks himself quietly. He could try and find another way out, but with villains wandering around, not to mention how tired he is… it might be better to save his energy and think of another way to get out of here later on.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, but careful to keep his thumbs hooked outside of them, Izuku starts making his way back, vigilantly noting every door and turn of the area. He wishes he could write this all down, but written evidence is just too risky right now.

Eventually when he reaches the room he had woken up in, Izuku shoves open the door and enters, kicking the door shut behind him. He eyes the table, spotting a pile of junk food and a pack of energy drinks there. He drags out a chair, plopping down and breaking into the chips. They're not bad, but somehow the thought that somewhere his mother might be starting to cook dinner for him leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

After he eats his fill, he plops onto the couch figuring that he doesn't know where his bed might be and really doesn't want to ask. But Izuku can't fall asleep, worries plaguing him until he finally sits back up, looking around for a long moment before turning on the game system and rooting through the various video games laying around the room.

…it's not like he has anything else he can do right now, anyways. And this way, no one will be suspicious if they open the door.

And maybe Izuku has the volume up all the way to conceal the slight sniffling coming from his room. But that's for him to know, and the villains hopefully to never find out.

* * *

Tomura forces himself to his feet, knowing that if Eraserhead exits the teacher's lounge and finds him sitting right here, he'll be pulled into another lecture. He curls his lip slightly at the door, turning away with a deep huff and examining the drying blood on his left knuckle with only a quick glance. It hurts, but not enough to indicate a break. (He would know; he's punched a wall hard enough to break a bone before.)

He's not sure if Midoriya's body requires more food or not, but his stomach cramps painfully even as he stands there. It's a pain, but ultimately just another drop of water in the bucket of things Tomura hates about this body. He isn't sure if he has time for any food either, so he walks back to the classroom and digs through Midoriya's backpack for a wallet. There's luckily a few vending machines scattered around the school, which are both convenient and mean that Tomura doesn't have to waste his energy talking to anyone right now. Both NPCs and major characters leave him alone, and as he quickly scarfs down a bag of sour candy, he starts to feel just a little bit more like himself.

The school bell startles him, and he scowls up at it. Since he was instructed to go the fields for physical prowess work, he assumes quirk usage. Which is still not fucking working, thanks a lot for nothing, so Tomura doesn't really see any point in going. But what if All Might is there? Shit.

He'll go and check, and then leave if it's a waste of his time. It's the smartest way to go about this, he's sure. He tosses the empty bag of food on the ground and walks away, looking for any hints of where he's supposed to be going. He wasn't paying close enough attention to remember _what_ field, never mind where a changing room would be.

He peeks into the classroom, chewing on his lip. There's no one there despite the bell, and Tomura is about to just leave when a voice greets him.

"Oh hey, Midoriya! Did you bring your clothes home to wash too?" A student greets him, grinning at him with large, pointy teeth.

"…no."

The student blinks, but then gives him a small half shrug and bobs his head. "Oh, okay, cool. Wanna walk with me to the changing room, then?"

This NPC is clearly talkative and annoying, but Tomura will take what he can get. He gives him a terse nod, and the kid beams before grabbing clothes out of his backpack and rushing back to him.

"You weren't at lunch with Uraraka and Iida," he comments. "They said Aizawa-sensei wanted to talk to you?"

"Mmm," Tomura grunts. God, what an annoying brat. Couldn't there be a fast forward button for this walk? The two lapse into awkward silence, but Tomura can feel the glances that the student keeps throwing at him from the corner of his eye.

"… hey, listen," the kid finally says. Tomura suppresses a groan, because he had known the brief reprieve had had no chance of lasting. "Do you want to, er, talk? About- you know! Life, schoolwork…last weekend, you know."

"Not really," Tomura replies. "But as everyone seems unwilling to shut up about it, I don't suppose you'd be any different."

"O-Oh," the boy replies, looking away as his face flushed to match his hair. "Sorry, man, I just… you mean a lot to all of us, and it's just not manly to not try and help a friend in trouble! I didn't mean to get in your business or make you uncomfortable…"

Tomura turns his head, studying the student. No, he's not considering opening up to this idiot- he's not stupid, this kid's clearly not a playable character- but extending an offer to help is the same as offering his services in the quest, right? He doesn't need to know what the quest is, of course, but if he does what Tomura wants…

"Actually," Tomura says, careful, sneaking glances over to gauge how good of a Midoriya impression he's achieving. "There is something you could do for me."

"Of course, dude! Just say the word, I've got your back!" It's kind of creepy, to watch how devoted this kid is to Midoriya. They've only known each other for, what, half a year? It's… weird. Having someone looking at Tomura this way felt _wrong,_ like his body has gone to sleep and just woke up, prickles running through his limbs.

Tomura rubs his arm, and lets out a deep sigh. "Well, I- I can't unlock my quirk since this weekend," he says, voice low. "And I didn't want anyone to worry, so I just…"

"What?! Dude!" The student's eyes are wide, mouth hanging open. "But wait, have you told Aizawa-sensei about this? He needs to know; you can't participate in a training exercise like this! Bakugou will go after you again, and-"

"No!" Tomura snaps, and the kid flinches, shrinking back. He looks like a kicked puppy, and Tomura backpedals. "I mean I- I can figure this out on my own," Tomura finishes lamely, fingers twitching as he forces his hands back down by his sides. "If they think I'm weak over this little incident, they'll kick me out of the hero course," he implores. "If you just- just cover for me, and say I feel sick, then I can sit out. I'll be back to normal in a few days, so it won't matter anyways," he promises, placing emphasis on the last sentence. It wasn't like he was lying, anyways; what was a quirk to a dead kid?

"I'm not sure… I really think you should talk to the teachers- ah. Iida!" The student calls, waving his arm.

Square glasses- Iida, Tomura notes, not that he'll remember that name- looks back at them, brow furrowing. "Midoriya-kun, Kirishima-kun," he says, chopping his arm at them. "You two are running late. You should already be dressed!"

"Right, right, our bad," Kirishima laughs, slinging an arm around Tomura. Tomura stiffens, a snarl trying to escape his throat, but he manages to bite his lip hard enough that the pain momentarily distracts him. Warning bells are still going off at the contact, though, and Tomura ducks under his arm and steps towards the room Iida is standing in front of.

"Whatever," he says, ignoring the glance that Iida shoots over Tomura's right shoulder. "You're just making us more late."

He enters, hearing Kirishima come in right behind him. He pauses, taking in the rows of cubbies, P.E. uniforms neatly inserted into all of them. "…hey," he asks, internally fuming.

"Yeah?"

"…which one of these is mine, again?"

* * *

The look that Eraserhead gives Tomura is not exactly one of delight. Well, Tomura didn't exactly level up his observation skills for positive emotions, so it could be happy, who knows.

"…Midoriya," Eraserhead says slowly. "Glad to see you could join us."

Tomura glares back, about to snap at him when Kirishima jumps in front of him.

"Oh, sensei! Actually, uh, Midoriya here said that he's feeling kind of sick."

Tomura's tries not to smirk, pleased his plan worked, before he glances around. The other NPCs hover around him, no All Might in sight. The girl from earlier and Iida are staring at him, but it's the glower of Bakugou that interests Tomura. The blonde's eyes are narrowed, but not quite in the same explosive manner as earlier. It was closer to the way Kurogiri would squint at Tomura sometimes, when he ruined his phones or areas of the bar with a slight mistouch. Bakugou's eyes shift slightly to meet his, but Tomura snorts and turns away. Let him stare, he thinks spitefully.

Eraserhead shifts, and he glances back to see the man towering over him. "Well?" He asks him. "Is that true?"

Tomura shrugs, and Eraserhead inspects him for a moment longer before nodding. "Then, Midoriya, sit out with me for the period. The rest of you, I've divided you into two teams. Each side has a flag that you have five minutes to claim a base and attach it to a surface. After the bell rings, whoever successfully steals the flag and takes it back to their base first wins."

The screens behind the teacher all flickered to life, the names divided into the two groups behind him.

"Isn't that just Capture the Flag?" A boy with black hair and a wide grin calls out.

"…it definitely is," the bird-headed kid mutters.

Kirishima nudges Tomura with his elbow, completely unaware of how close he is to getting punched. "Maybe it's a good thing you're sitting this one out."

"And why is that?" Tomura replies sardonically.

"Oh, I just- Bakugou would've been on the other team," he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. "You know how he gets super intense whenever you two fight."

"Hmm." Tomura didn't bother to give a longer reply, but it didn't matter because the students are already moving, heading towards the combat area.

"Wish me luck, Deku!" The girl from earlier jokes, also nudging him as she races by, giving him a thumbs up as she turns slightly towards him. "Just watch, I'm going to beat Bakugou this time!"

Tomura rubs his shoulder, grimacing slightly. _Stop touching me,_ he wants to snap, but Eraserhead is still standing next to him staring, so Tomura refrains.

"How bad is it?" The teacher finally asks, and Tomura scowls.

"It's _fine_. I just don't feel like fighting right now."

"This wouldn't have to do with our conversation earlier, does it?" Eraserhead doesn't bother waiting for a reply, seeming to expect Tomura's silence. The television screens flicker and switch to multiple camera views. "You do realize that I could expel you for that behavior earlier, Midoriya? Walking out while a teacher is talking to you, insulting a classmate, faking an illness to get out of class- "

"Then just expel me already," Tomura demands. He was going to find All Might _today,_ so what did he care about tomorrow? Not to mention the potential scenarios this flag brought up; Midoriya, expelled from U.A., attacks and kills mother and friends. It would be quite the hilarious gameplay to sit back and mock when he's back with sensei.

Eraserhead sighs, pinching his nose. "…You're lucky that I still see potential in you, Midoriya. But since you're insisting on behaving like this, even with extenuating circumstances, I'm going to have to act on your behavior today somehow." The hero turns, staring down at Tomura. "…you'll be joining your classmates that failed the exam for a few remedial lessons." He waits, as if expecting Tomura to beg for forgiveness, but Tomura has no plans on doing anything of the sort. No way he's giving some hero any sense of satisfaction.

"Whatever. I don't care."

"Midoriya- "

The bell rings, interrupting them. On the screens, Tomura sees the students start moving, and he shifts, wondering how long this will take.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk?" Eraserhead finally says. "I know that my methods are strict, but from what I've observed today- you're allowed to ask for help."

"Eraserhead-" Tomura starts, gritting his teeth, but the teacher shakes his head.

"Aizawa-sensei," he corrects gruffly. "I'm your teacher right now."

 _Sensei._ That word only means one person, though, and Eraserhead is definitely not him. He is just a hindrance that keeps getting under Tomura's skin, itching and itching and itching-

 _I hate him_ , Tomura thinks, and something about the thought abruptly calms him. It's like puzzle pieces snap together, a perfect match, a clean explanation for his feelings. _Maybe more than Midoriya. I hate him, and I want him not only dead, I want him to suffer._

He lets out a deep breath, and it's like a weight is lifted from his shoulders. "Yes," Tomura agrees, turning away to hide how he is now smiling ever so slightly. "If I need anything, I'll be sure to let you know… Aizawa-sensei."

He rubs his knuckles, feeling the stiffening scabs already forming. _Soon,_ he promises himself. _Soon._


	4. Chapter 4

"Kurogiri," All for One says, smiling slightly as he straightens up and turns away from the monitor. "Glad you could make it."

"Of course," Kurogiri greets him, bowing. "May I inquire as to what this is about?"

He chuckles, smile widening. "Why, it's about Tomura… I'd like to continue the discussion on his future that we had started a few days ago. Today's meeting was quite… enlightening, after all…"

* * *

Shoving upon the doors, Tomura takes a deep breath of freedom as he escapes from the suffocating shit show of a school that is U.A.. He hesitates outside of the school gates only because All Might had said he had wanted to talk earlier, but the so called Symbol of Peace is nowhere to be found at this hour, and dammit, Tomura is _tired._ There's only so much of this crap he can take in a day.

Or maybe not, because he can hear the doors slam open behind him and angry footsteps slap the ground in pursuit. "Oi, Deku!" A voice snaps, and Tomura barely manages to withhold some colorful expletives.

He is not in the mood, and it is time someone took the fucking hint already. He speeds up, not deigning to answer Bakugou as he tries to leave. His pointed silence doesn't seem to deter the angry teenager, however, as Bakugou skids in front of Tomura and pointedly plants himself right in front of him.

This kid was seriously trying his patience. "What could it possibly be," he demands coldly, green eyes narrowing into slits. "That's so damn important. I'm leaving right now. Save it for later."

"No! What the hell," Bakugou snarls, shoulders tense and lips pulling back into a snarl. "You've been acting weird all damn day and you won't even stop running away for _one fucking minute-_ " and as he yells this, a hand clamps down on Tomura's shoulder and _yanks_ him forwards. The hand slightly burns, small sparks dancing over Tomura's clothes, and suddenly all he can focus on is the unwanted contact.

It's like all Tomura can see is static for a moment, a ringing sensation clanging in his head and drowning out any other thoughts as a wave of slight dizziness washes over him. Before he registers what he's doing, his hand darts out and clamps down on Bakugou's throat, his grip tightening. It's like he's standing on a ship on a foggy morning, the floor slightly lurching out from under him as he struggles to see what's right in front of his face. He can't move. For a brief moment, so brief he swears he imagined it, he can picture his father in Bakugou's place, squirming helplessly in his grip, and then the image fractures into thirteen others, fearful and familiar eyes looking at Tomura and _no he didn't mean to but he did and he's sorry but he isn't-_ but that's such a ridiculous thought that Tomura snaps out of it and manages to focus on the present again.

Red eyes widen before meeting Tomura's own, the angry furrow of Bakugou's brow vanishing for a split second as his eyes widen with fear as he chokes. It's only for that split second though, as that familiar anger crashes back down onto Bakugou's face with a force, his hands grabbing at Tomura's own. Heat sparks against his arm, a warning, and Tomura remembers himself just in time to release. No, he has other plans for Bakugou. He can't kill him here. This one is still useful.

Bakugou coughs, rubbing his throat, but his eyes never leave Tomura's. "You asshole," he spits. He shoves Tomura away, hands brought up to his chest in a loose attack stance. "You wanna fucking go, huh?"

"You surprised me," Tomura petulantly retorts, shaking out his hands as he struggles to regain control over his sudden erratic breathing. What the hell. That was not usual, not usual at all. Was it a glitch? He wasn't wearing his family, he shouldn't feel this anger, not without the clarity the familiar hands brought with it. "You shouldn't do that, Bakugou."

Bakugou barks out a short laugh before breaking it off with a hiss as he drops his hands away from his throat. "I can do what I want," he says. "Shit, what the hell, though. That _hurt_ , dumbass. And on school grounds? I _bet_ a camera or something picked up on that."

"…What are you talking about now?"

Bakugou laughs. It sounded a bit more like Sensei's than Tomura is expecting, short and sharp, which is strange, because this is the first time a laugh like that has made Tomura's blood boil. "Come on, Deku... or, no. What _should_ I call you?"

Tomura's eyes narrow. "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, come on. What, did you think I was stupid? Goody two-shoes Deku cussing? Getting in trouble with _Aizawa?_ Not to mention attacking someone like that. God, you're shitty at this." Bakugou sneers, looking down at Tomura.

"I don't follow you," Tomura rasps, his teeth grinding together slightly. "Are you accusing me of something, Bakugou?"

"That! Right there," Bakugou punctuates, suddenly stepping right back into Tomura's face, headless of the danger. Bakugou's eyes are narrowing in cold, violent fury, but a grin is spreading over his face. "See, asshole, you're calling me 'Bakugou.' Deku has _never_ called me that. And I've known him for more than a decade. It's always been that ridiculous childhood moniker of 'Kacchan,' no matter what shit I pulled to try and get him to stop calling me that. So," he says, hands flaring a bright white and orange. "Clearly this isn't just Deku acting out. You're not him. You're not _Midoriya Izuku,_ and I intend to find out exactly who the fuck you are, shit face."

Shit. Shit, shit, _shit._ Three strikes, you're out, Tomura thinks sourly. These shitty brats at U.A. really think that they're so smart, don't they? But Tomura isn't planning on going down without a fight. "Very clever, aren't you, _Kacchan_. But you have no actual proof of this. You're making wild guesses that aren't _true_. What are you going to do about it, anyways? Run crying to Eraserhead?"

"Who's running to who?! Maybe I don't have proof yet," Bakugou hisses, leaning so that he slightly towers over Tomura. Tomura hates it, hates that this shitty body is so short. "But I will. And everyone else is going to catch on, because despite those extras being soft, even they can clearly see what a _mess_ you're making." There's a moment of silence as the two glare at each other, Tomura slowly losing any slight attempt at a façade as hatred glimmers in his eyes, Bakugou reflecting the same emotions right back at him. "But I don't need anyone's help to figure out what's going on here. I can do it all by my fucking self, and once I do, you're going to fucking _regret it_ , asshole." And, like a switch is flipped, Bakugou spins on his heel and stalks away from Tomura. "I don't know if this is mind control or a shapeshifting quirk or whatever fucking trick you've used, but I'll be watching you like a damn hawk so watch your step. Next time you slip up, I'll be _waiting_."

Tomura finally snaps, taking a step forwards. "No one will believe you. They know you hate Midoriya already, this is just another thing you'll have done that looks villainous to them," Tomura threatens. "This isn't a game set match, this is just the beginning of the round, Bakugou Katsuki."

Bakugou turns slightly, just enough to glare over his shoulder at Tomura, before he slowly lets out another sharp laugh. "What, pissing yourself already? You should, extra, because starting tomorrow you're going down, if you have the balls not to run away again. Oh, and if you've hurt Deku, I'll murder you _myself._ I have unfinished business with him, and you don't get to get in my fucking way."

Tomura stares after him, hand reaching up to start scratching at the bandaid. It's in his way, preventing him from scratching his throat and feeling some sort of relief over the anger that buzzes in his ears and allows him to feel every single beat of his heart in his throat. It's not right that he's been found out this fast. It's bad game design, to set up a confrontation before the plot's main arc has even started.

He finally shakes his head, watching other students wander by as they also exit the school. He isn't an _extra,_ as Bakugou put it. He is a real, serious force to be reckoned with, and Bakugou will regret ever referring to him as such. Give it a few days, and Bakugou will get to see that firsthand, when Tomura returns to Sensei with his head held high and All Might's weakness in his grasp. And perhaps he might as well come back with Bakugou as well? He could meet up with the planned attack on the U.A. summer camp that departs tomorrow. That… that could work. That could work really fucking well.

Bakugou won't even have time to warn anyone, because by the time he realizes what he's messing with, he'll realize that he was meant to be a villain all along and that will be that. He'll be sorry he made his new team member so angry and it'll all snap into place.

Tomura's body slowly relaxes, and he chuckles dryly as he shakes his head. Why is he even getting so wound up around these heroes? Here he is, a fox in the chicken coop, and yet he is allowing the chickens to peck at him despite how overwhelmingly obvious it is that he has the upper hand.

He pulls out his phone, typing in the address that he had departed from this morning, and turns to head to the train station. He still makes no attempt to call anyone from the League of Villains, although he briefly does debate about sending a message to confirm the strike team's day of attack. But, no. This is to prove that he can do it all by himself. He's sure he'll notice when the attack happens one way or another.

As he swipes into the train station with Midoriya's train pass and impatiently waits for the train to arrive, he keeps his eyes glued on the screen as he thumbs through Midoriya's game selection. It's disgustingly bare of any good games, most of the apps focusing on news sites and forum boards known for discussing heroes. All very boring discoveries, and Tomura once again amuses himself with going through and deleting everything from the phone that bores him... which is almost everything.

"Midoriya, my boy!" A voice suddenly says, a shadow falling over the phone's screen.

Tomura stiffens, his grip on the phone tightening. Not again. How many people in this damn city know this kid? The voice is mildly familiar, enough so that Tomura's eyes flick upwards once out of curiosity. Then they jerk back up again, because although Tomura has no idea who the hell this character is, he sure is quite the sight to look at.

It's… some kind of fucked up scarecrow. If Tomura hadn't known better, he almost would have expected this thing to be found amongst the Noumu. The man towers over Tomura, burning blue eyes and piss-yellow hair sticking out in every direction. He's also ridiculously emaciated; if Tomura shoved him, he could easily push him onto the train tracks and kill him.

The scarecrow is still staring at him, so Tomura scowls. "Yes?" He demands.

"I wanted to ask how your talk with Aizawa-san went," the stranger says easily. Who was this? A teacher at U.A.? That makes no sense; Tomura's never seen this person before, and he's seen pictures of the entirety of U.A.'s personnel. "As well as discuss something with you! Do you have time right now, my boy?"

There's a welcoming rattle as the train pulls into the station, the crowds of NPCs pressing around the two of them. There's a moment of deliberation, of interest in this stranger, before Tomura dismisses it with a quick decision. "No," he deadpans. "I'm quite busy."

Tomura slips into a train car just as the doors slide shut behind him, and he doesn't bother turning around to watch as the train glides back out of the station.

* * *

He yanks open the door, letting it slam behind him. He doesn't bother taking his shoes off and putting them by the entrance; Tomura merely steps onto the wooden floors, headless of whether or not his shoes are dirty.

"Izuku? Is that you?" The mother's voice calls. She appears, eyes wide and fingers fidgeting with each other. She takes in Tomura, looking him up and down- and what is she even _looking_ at?- before swallowing and saying carefully, "your teacher called."

"So?" Tomura grouses.

The woman's eyes are clearly watering, and Tomura watches unimpressed as she tries and fails to calm herself down. "And I- I went in your room, Izuku," she whispers. "I just…I don't understand what's going on with you today."

"My room? What the fu- what's wrong with it?" Tomura demands. The woman crosses her arms, shoulders hiking up towards her ears. What could have set her off about a _room?_ And then Tomura remembers trashing the All Might paraphernalia, and suddenly it clicks. "Oh. That."

"Izuku-"

"It's nothing, okay?" Tomura growls. He starts picking at his wrist, not meeting this strange woman's gaze. Why did his stomach feel so heavy? First _Kacchan,_ then that tall scarecrow, now Midoriya's emotional mother. It was only another two days, but he was going crazy. An image of Midoriya Izuku wearing his own mother's hands flash before his eyes, and something about that thought makes him pause. It would all happen once he killed the dog- wait, _what dog?_ \- when suddenly there are arms around Tomura, and all he knows is white noise.

"You have me, Izuku," the woman cries, a hand pressing against the back of Tomura's head. "You have me." The grip is tight, but it doesn't hurt, and Tomura doesn't remember having been held like this since… since…

 _Who in the world could do something like this to you? It's fine now… You have me now._

What's wrong with me, he wants to scream. Why am I seeing these things? The past doesn't matter. It _shouldn't_ matter. He wants to throw things, to grab this woman back and watch her crumble into dust in his hands… and yet.

When he touches her, she doesn't disintegrate. She doesn't vanish, because she's right here, and he's right here. He's aching for his family, for the familiar weight of hands on his limbs and the feeling of crazed anger yet inner calmness that comes with it, and yet right now this woman whose name he doesn't even know is the closest thing he's got.

The next thing he knows, he's shoving the woman away, ripping himself out of her grasp. "No," he snarls.

"Izuku-"

"Just leave me alone!" Tomura snaps, and then he whirls around and storms into Midoriya's room, letting the door slam shut.

* * *

Izuku startles awake, his eyes snapping open as the television lets out a particularly loud explosion. He flails, arms pin wheeling as he teeters on the edge of the couch, his hands grasping for purchase. He grabs at the fabric, but it comes away as dust in his hands, and he is roughly deposited on the floor in a confused tangle of limbs.

"Ugh," he groans, shifting as his back protested his nap on the couch's lumpy surface. He lifts his head up for a brief moment to scan the room, letting it flop back onto the floor when he is satisfied that the room is otherwise empty. The quirk- and it must have been a quirk, there wasn't much else that could explain it- that had swapped him and Shigaraki clearly had yet to wear off, but it would be a bad idea to write it off as a timer-based quirk. There could be conditions to it; maybe Izuku had to touch his original body, or had to find the quirk user that did this, or- or _something._ It was frustrating; he had next to nothing to go off of for this. He doesn't even know when the quirk was activated, or if it was done on purpose or not.

There's a bad taste in his mouth, a lingering flavor of soda, junk food, and that gross aftertaste sleep sometimes leaves behind. Izuku is careful not to damage the remote, but he quickly turns off the loud explosions, letting the room fall into dark silence. He sits there, listening to his own raspy breaths and the distant sound of water dripping down a wall. He licks his dry lips, sitting all the way up, and slowly getting to his feet. What time is it? It feels late, but there are no windows or clock in here, so who knows what time it actually is.

He collects the hands that had been knocked off in his sleep, a mere two considering he must have rolled around a hundred times trying to get comfortable. Izuku doesn't let himself stop and hesitate; he opens the door and steps out into the hallway. He passes the way down to the bar; even though there's a door out there, the chances of running into Kurogiri remains too high to make that his first choice.

Instead, he keeps walking down the corridor and pokes his head into an open doorway on his right. A dead end; a worn punching bag with a sand pile below it hangs in the center of the room, and gross mats cover the floor, suspicious red smudges left on them to dry. Again, no windows.

He shoves a door open, breath held as it squeaks open. Another windowless, dirty room.

And another.

And another.

Izuku keeps going, his whole body tense. What was his mother doing right now? Probably sleeping. He wonders if anyone noticed he was missing. Was Shigaraki really in his body? Or…. What if he was still in his own body? This personality could just be a copy, someone who _thinks_ he's Izuku but is really just tricked into that via stolen memories. Quirks could do that. _Did_ a quirk do that? The thought is enough for Izuku to falter for a second, but then he shook his head vigorously. He had to consider all possibilities, not get stuck on one or two. If he didn't know for sure, there was no point worrying about the more unlikely situations.

He reaches for the handle of the next room's door, but stops when he notices the sterile white light coming out from under the door. He listens, wondering if someone is in there, when a voice speaks up from behind him.

"Are you going to go in, or are you just going to keep blocking my way?"

Izuku whirls around, eyes wide. The villain that had stood up to him before stands there, eyes almost glowing the same color as the blue flames flickering in the relaxed grip of one of his hands. The man's eyes flick up and down Izuku before he raises an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

"You don't fear me," Izuku says quietly. "Why?" He didn't recognize him from any news reports or past League of Villains' attacks. And he didn't seem to love Shigaraki particularly, so maybe… maybe Izuku could find someone willing to let him slip outside.

The villain brushes past him, glancing at him from the corner of his eye. "Why should I?" He challenges, voice cool.

Izuku follows, glancing discreetly around as he surveys the room. It's a kitchen, the light leaking out from a fridge that had been left open. Milk drips onto the floor, but the man ignores it, opening the fridge all the way and surveying the food. Izuku hesitates again, but slides into one of the wooden chairs pulled up around the table in the center of the room. "Well. You just should," Izuku retorts, watching closely for any sign he said the wrong thing.

The villain- and Izuku really should know his name, but he can't ask now, can he?- just snorts, grabbing the milk carton. "You don't inspire fear in me for shit," he says, tipping the carton up and seeming unsurprised that only a few drops come out. "You haven't earned it yet, _boss._ "

Izuku twitches, peeking out at him from behind the hand latched on his face. "Oh? And how do I earn it?"

"You show me your cause."

The two are silent, turquoise eyes and red eyes meeting each other's gaze before both flick away. "What time is it?" Izuku asks, voice low.

The villain raises an eyebrow, but pulls out his phone and glances down at it. "Four," he replies.

Izuku takes a deep breath, folding his hands together in front of his face. "What do you say we go out- just the two of us- and I show you exactly what my cause is, then?"

The man is staring down at the milk carton before he tosses it behind him without looking. It clatters against the side of the trash and falls to the ground, next to other failed tossed items of garbage. _Please,_ Izuku thinks, but he feels his stomach sink when the villain shakes his head once. "I'll pass," he says. "But maybe after this mission. I need my rest if I can really show off what I can do for my debut."

Izuku bites his lip. He opens his mouth, squeezes his eyes shut, and then finally says it. "Coward."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I haven't seen your abilities yet, so how can I even trust you not to fuck this task up, anyways?" Izuku rasps. "You're not the only one with something to _earn_ here… jerk."

Surprisingly, the only response Izuku gets is a laugh. "Kurogiri said you'd be more of an asshole leading up to the mission than usual, but man, I didn't think you could get more annoying." The villain surveys him with bright eyes, the flames in his hands getting bigger. "Don't worry, I'll be sure to kill a kid or two just for you on the mission. Now, I'm going to go and leave you to throw your little pity party alone."

He turns and strolls out, the door slamming shut in the quiet left in his wake. Izuku winces, running one hand through his oily hair. He groans, frustrated, before slowly standing up. He pauses by the fridge, considering trying to get actual food, but then shakes his head. No, he has to keep looking. He's getting out of here tonight, one way or another.

* * *

If only it was that easy.

Okay, someone has it out for him, he's sure of it. Izuku stands there, frozen, like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar, sweat dripping down his back. "Um," he manages to say.

Kurogiri taps his foot, his yellow eyes narrowing into slits. "Shigaraki, it's four in the morning. You agreed that for the sake of missions, going to bed before this hour would be for the best a while ago."

 _He sounds like a tired babysitter_. Izuku stares back at him, squinting right back. "You're not the boss of me," he argues. "I can do what I want. Besides, _you're_ up."

Kurogiri puts one hand up to his forehead, shaking his head at him. "Shigaraki, I _get up_ at this time."

"…wait, what? It's four am."

"…yes. I run the base, and need to ensure that everything is taken care of." Kurogiri sighs. "Now. It's late- or, early, in my case- so let me walk you to your room." He walks over to Izuku and grabs his arm, his grip tight.

Izuku stares down at the misty limb, and a wave of nausea washes over him. "You don't normally act like this," he guesses. "Why the hell now? I'm doing fine, I don't need you hovering over me like this." _Does he know?_ The question rushes back over him, like ice cold water, the feeling starting with his dry mouth and washing down to make his stomach feel like lead.

Kurogiri doesn't look at him, just tugging him after. "Sensei asked me," he starts, "to be a bit stricter this week. There's no need to get moody over it, Shigaraki."

"But- but- _why,_ dammit?" Izuku demands, stumbling a bit. "Let me go, Kurogiri! I'm- I'm the boss here, so why the hell do you get to suddenly overstep and-"

"Because Sensei insisted. And even you won't go against his word," Kurogiri states. He releases Izuku into a different room, stepping backwards. "He noticed you seemed overly nervous about your plans, and suggested that the only thing that would ruin them is yourself overthinking it. Don't worry; after everything goes smoothly, Sensei assured me he feels confident that everything will be back to normal. Now. Goodnight."

Izuku only manages to stutter out an angry complaint before the door swings shut. Izuku stumbles back again, heart hammering. He can't hear whether or not the door locks over his heart, but the message is clear: Kurogiri is awake, and he's not letting Izuku out of his sight. What mistake had he made, when he was with All for One? What comment, or glance, or… or… Izuku swallows, wishing he had water. _They could have known the whole time_ , a little voice whispers in his head. _They're playing with you._

"No," he mutters, trying to keep his anxiety from messing with him. "I don't know that- it could be anything I did wrong, it could be just I said I was nervous and All for One believed that or that I called him the wrong thing or… or…" Izuku grabbed his hair. "I don't know! I don't know for sure what to do in this situation when all chances to communicate are blocked. Do I sleep, so I have the energy to run the second a good opportunity comes along? Or do I keep trying or thinking and come up with something _now,_ before it's too late? Even if no one has said it, it's clear that until the attack is over I'm..."

Izuku stops short, breath stuttering for a moment. He looks around the dark room, taking in the lack of anything except a bed and a television and a pile of video game consoles. "I'm basically a prisoner already," he whispers.


	5. Chapter 5

He doesn't remember closing his eyes.

It's funny, in a way, because he also can't remember opening them either. He was just… here suddenly, but it wasn't like teleportation or anything else he had ever experienced before.

His surroundings are dark, and when he strains to listen, he can hear quiet whispers coming from nearby. He tries to move forwards, but he can't… where is his body? He looks down, and is startled to find that only his left hand is there, the rest wreathed in a strange smoke.

It doesn't make sense. _He_ doesn't make sense; and then eight pairs of eyes turn and stare straight at him, and the whispering falls away to silence.

"Their souls are mixed up," someone murmurs.

"We can't interfere."

"But if it continues like this-"

"Who even is the real successor?" Someone else finishes.

 _Where am I?_ He wants to demand, but he has no voice, no way to communicate with these strangers.

The figures start to shift, parting in front of him, and suddenly he can see another figure swathed in black mist in a similar predicament on the other side of the eight people. They turn and meet his eyes, their right hand stretching out futilely to wave at him. He can't quite make out their face, but it looks familiar…

"Well, we can't just keep blocking One for All indefinitely. It has to go somewhere," a black-haired man spoke up.

"But one body is too weak, and the other's spirit-"

"-wasn't chosen to be the successor. Yes," a woman agreed. "But if it goes on like this, we're placing the boy in grave danger."

"So we're in agreement?"

"Yes," a chorus of voices agreed.

He struggles, but there is no way to fight against being _nothing,_ so his hand stretches out towards the other person-

* * *

Tomura sits up in bed, his breath coming in short gasps. He drags a hand down his face, his head pulsing, and groans. He turns, looking out the window; it's early enough out that the sun has only just risen. If he hurries, he can make it out of the house before the mother even wakes up.

In the back of his mind he wonders why one of the figures nearest to him in that dream, a woman with black hair, seemed so familiar.

* * *

In the same instant, in a room cut off from the light, Izuku also jerks awake, his breath coming in short pants. "One for All," he whispers.

* * *

"Midoriya! Over here!"

Tomura resists the urge to sigh and turns, glancing at Kirishima, who is waving franticly at him. He almost goes with his first instinct to say _fuck off, I don't want you near me_ , when Bakugou shoulder checks him, hefting one bag over his shoulder as he pauses and turns his head slightly to look at Tomura.

"Out of my way, fake," he sneers, getting onto the bus.

Tomura glowers after him, and Kirishima takes the opportunity to wander over to his side. "Whoah," he says. "What did you do to make Bakugou be in a worse mood than usual?"

"Nothing," Tomura mutters. "He's just being difficult." He clenches his hands, reminds himself that he needs to hold it together for a few more days, and then smiles. "So, excited for training?"

Kirishima stares at him, blinking. "Uh… yeah. Are you okay? You look like you're in pain."

"Deku! Kirishima!" A familiar voice shouts, and sure enough, the girl comes bouncing up to them, her bags not seeming to slow her down at all. "This is going to be great! I'm so pumped!"

"Heck yeah, Uraraka!" Kirishima says, and they fist bump. Tomura tries not to groan, and somewhat fails when even more NPCs saunter up to them in a parade of smug smiles and sunshine. There's at least four newcomers, one of them being Ingenium's loud brother.

"Okay everyone! It looks like a majority of class A is here, so start getting seating buddies to make sure everyone is accounted for! We load up in ten minutes!" He yells, chopping at people with his hand.

"Ochako, let's sit together," a girl with ridiculously large eyes asks her, one finger pressed to her lips.

"Sure, Tsuyu!" Uraraka says, turning away from Tomura. He crosses his arms, looking pointedly away. Ridiculous, acting like children who need people to hold their hand. He can sit alone, thank you very much.

A boy with yellow hair nods at Kirishima, who grins. "Hell yeah! This ride is gonna be great."

Ingenium's brother sidles up to Tomura, and before he can even say "hell no," the NPC opens his mouth. "Midoriya-kun, would you agree to be my seating comrade?"

Great. Now everyone's looking at them, and Tomura could swear he had seen Bakugou peeking out of one of the bus's windows to smirk at him a moment ago. "I'd love to," he says flatly.

"Excellent. Now it looks like everyone except Bakugou has a partner, which makes sense, as our class has an odd number… Yaoyorozu-san, did you see how many pairs total we have-"

"What? Some people in Class A need remedial lessons? Isn't that strange! And here I thought Class A was supposed to be _superior_ to Class B, right? Huuuuuuh?" A voice interrupted, a boy shoving himself into the group congregating around Tomura.

"Oh great, Class B's also here," the kid with yellow hair said.

"Oh goodie," Tomura replies. His headache from this morning hasn't subsided, and between that and being surrounded by these noisy walking headaches, he's probably getting a migraine. "My head hurts; I'm getting on the bus already."

"Yes, good idea, Midoriya-kun! It seems like everyone is here." Ingenium's brother says. "Everyone, please queue in seating order! You should be with your partner to make this go as smoothly as possible!"

"Hey, watch it-" Tomura snaps as he gets shoved forwards, bodies pressing around him. He bites his lip, headless of the sudden tang of blood, and then suddenly he was sitting down in a seat as the bus started to move.

He sighs, closing his eyes in relief, and his head bobs a bit. He's tired, and it isn't like he has any mission objectives he can tackle at the moment, so maybe a save point wouldn't hurt-

"Do NOT stand on those seats please! That is a grave misconduct of behavior and is not suitable to do! No standing on the seats!"

Tomura jerks up, about to grab his offending "seating buddy" and show him exactly what he thinks of this ridiculous noise, when he catches sight of Bakugou openly staring at him from across the aisle. Registering Tomura's gaze, Bakugou smirks, tilting his head up. The message is clear: _Just try it._

Tomura groans and slides down until his back is flat against the bottom of the seat, staring at the ceiling as the NPCs around him somehow become even more annoying.

* * *

"This isn't a rest stop," one of the students whispers as everyone takes in the mountains around them.

Tomura stretches, glancing at the Wild Wild Pussycats. The camp they pointed out is a fair distance away, but anything sounds better than a bus ride grinding friendship levels with the others right now. And it's a good sign; Sensei's requested target is also right here, so everything is still going according to plan.

The other students are panicking, scrambling back towards the bus in a blind panic. Bakugou is the only student who hasn't budged, standing next to Tomura with his arms crossed. One of the heroes slams her hands into the ground, and Tomura grits his teeth as suddenly he's free falling through the air.

A boulder starts to cross his path and Tomura flounders, reaching out to give it a forceful tap. Nothing happens, and Tomura's eyes widen as he gets clipped on the shoulder and is flung farther away from everyone else.

He hits the ground hard, his breath knocked out of him. _What the fuck,_ he surmises. _This is how they train heroes? This is extra, even for U.A.._ The ground starts rumbling, and he shoves himself up and to the side just as a thick arm smashes into the spot he was just lying. A monster about the size of two Noumus put together towers over him, and Tomura glares back up at it in dismay.

 _His damn quirk is gone._

"Midoriya!" A voice calls, and Tomura glances to the side just in time to see the girl with pink skin racing towards him with the quiet, rock-like kid at her side. "Midoriya, move!"

He tries to stumble to his feet, but the monster turns, a leg swatting into his ribs and sending him skipping across the ground.

"Please calm down and fall back," the quiet kid calls at the monster, but it merely moves to attack him instead.

Tomura spits out some blood, his cheek aching from where he had bit down. His hands tighten their grip, digging into the dirt, and his face heats up from anger. He gets to his feet, swiping at the dirt left on his arms. "Oh no you fucking _don't_ ," he snaps, his hands suddenly thrumming with power.

He ignores the alarmed gasp of the quiet kid.

He ignores the girl that yells at him as he dashes past.

He ignores the other NPCs and Bakugou that had all come running, all skidding to a halt when he darts past them.

Because suddenly it is just him and this rush of power, and nothing has ever felt so good. _Try this on for size, Tenth,_ a voice whispers. Tomura's eyes widen, and suddenly black tendrils erupt from his arm, shooting straight through the beast and pulverizing it into small chunks of rock that scatter into the wind. Tomura starts laughing, and he lands back onto the ground as he wavers and barely manages to stay upright. He gazes down at his hands, watching the black tendrils writhe in time with his emotions.

Well. Now _this…_ this is kinda cool. Not expected, but definitely an upgrade to his situation. Destructive like his normal quirk, but with a reach. He can work with this.

Kirishima skids to a stop next to him, closely followed by half of the class's NPCs. "Dude," he says. "What the heck _was_ that?"

* * *

Izuku had gotten a grand total of maybe thirty minutes of sleep before he wakes up again.

He feels a bit nauseous, and he isn't sure that a lack of sleep is the sole cause for it.

 _One for All_ , he thinks, staring down at his- no, at Shigaraki's- hands. Somehow he's still connected, an echo of All Might's quirk, of _his_ quirk, staying with him despite the body swap. He closes his eyes, picturing Shigaraki's wide red eyes staring at him in confusion from across the room. It must be a body swap, what with both of them there while the past holders spoke about it. It's true that Shigaraki's body had next to no muscles, however, and Izuku isn't sure that he even wants to try calling One for All with the possibility that he could cripple the body he's inhabiting. It would be Aizawa's biggest warning come to life, Izuku in the middle of a mess all alone and unable to do anything about it because his own quirk targeted his body. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. At least he has a confirmation that Shigaraki is in his own body. He doesn't know if that makes him feel any better, but it's information at least.

He tries the door; it's indeed locked. As there's nothing to do but go back to sleep, Izuku complies, curling back up with his hands laying palms-up in an attempt to cause as minimal damage as possible. He stays there like that, but now he's over concentrating and every breath has to be manually controlled. His clothes stick to him in the heat of summer, and his throat hurts from a lack of water. Any sleep he does get after that is tumultuous, with Izuku drifting in and out of nightmares of Shigaraki using One for All to hurt his friends and family while All for One towers behind Izuku, holding his arm and preventing him from going to help but making him watch all the same.

It must be a few hours before the door makes a loud clicking noise, and Izuku sits up just in time to see Kurogiri open the door.

"Ah, you're awake," he says. "How did you sleep?"

It isn't hard to act mean this time; Izuku is exhausted, and he has zero reason to hide it. He glares at Kurogiri and pushes past him, his head pounding. "Fantastic," he mutters.

Kurogiri silently follows him, and Izuku tries not to show just how frustrated he feels as he slinks all the way back to the kitchen where he had bumped into the fire villain the night before. He shoves the door open and enters, wrinkling his nose slightly as the smell of something burning hits him.

"Nooo, my perfect breakfast is _burning_ ," Toga whines, waving a knife through the air. "Twice, do something about it!"

The man in the full bodysuit- Twice- ducks under her swinging knife with his hands protectively raised. "I'm sure it'll still taste delicious," he tries pleading with her. There's a split second of a pause, and then he continues, his tone of voice completely different. "It would've tasted like shit anyways, so why bother?"

"Now now, Himiko, can you please sheathe your knife? We have no reason to get into an argument this early," the man with a mask and top hat says from where he sat at the table, a deck of cards in front of him.

Toga glances over, grinning. "Hehe, Mr. Compress said _sheathe_ ," she snickers.

The fire villain, his head resting on his folded arms on the table, loudly groans. "Are you wearing a high school girl's uniform or an elementary schooler's? Do I need to go find you one of their stupid yellow hats?"

Izuku pauses, taking in the scene for a long moment before he glances back at Kurogiri. He nods at him, and Izuku tries not to also groan as he slowly makes his way over next to where the flame villain is sitting. He drags out a chair with three fingers and sits down, a few of the villains glancing over in surprise.

"Shigaraki, you're… actually awake," Mr. Compress comments, his voice carefully devoid of any nuance.

"So?" Izuku asks defensively.

"So you're _never_ awake at this hour, even if Kurogiri threatens to take away your favorite video games," Toga giggles, her cooking mishap and the other villain baiting her already forgotten. Whatever had once been in the pan is further abandoned, a black mess of… something just being left to continue being made into charcoal.

Izuku just grunts, reaching for one of the bags of cereal lying on the table. He doesn't know where a bowl is, and doesn't dare risk asking, so he just shoves his hand in to eat it dry. There's nothing; he hits cereal dust and the bottom of the bag. He frowns, and reaches for the other bag. Also empty.

"Do we have _any_ food?" He asks. Chips were _not_ dinner, no matter what Shigaraki's body had been living off of up to this point. Izuku has been on a diet consisting of a generous amount of protein for more than a year already, and mentally he's still used to eating in that manner.

"We have milk," Mr. Compress offers, laying his cards down on the table, spread upwards.

A scoff. "Nope, we were out last night," the guy with his face still pressed into the table mutters. " _Someone_ left the empty carton in the fridge."

Silence; everyone eyes each other, and then Izuku stands up. "I'll go shopping." He forces himself to sound displeased, but underneath the hand he can't help but allow one side of his mouth to curl upwards ever so slightly.

"No need, Shigaraki Tomura," Kurogiri says. Izuku isn't sure if he's the _worst_ villain here, or the most dangerous, but at the moment Izuku is really starting to not like his voice. "I can go get some and be back in five minutes. Wait here," and then he steps into a portal and is gone. Great.

"So, now what?" Toga asks, pulling out a chair next to Izuku and plopping down. "Oh, I know, Mr. Compress! Those cards, let's play!"

"These are for my magic tricks, not some game of-"

"That sounds like a great idea, deal me in," Twice agrees, also sitting down. "No, don't, I can't fucking stand playing cards," he adds as an afterthought.

Izuku opens his mouth, about to refuse, and then the black-haired villain lifts his head. "Ten bucks I can beat Shigaraki," he says, glancing over at Izuku before his eyes bounce away, a small grin appearing on his lips.

"Ohhhh, Dabi, are we making this a thing? Let's make it a thing!" Toga agrees, pulling out a wad of- was that blood?- dirty and crumpled bills and putting it in the middle. "Winner takes the pot!"

Izuku watches as everyone adds their money before Dabi looks at him again. "Well?" He asks, cracking his knuckles. "You wouldn't run away, would you, _boss?_ "

Goddammit. There's no way someone like Shigaraki would say no _now._ Izuku was stuck playing cards with villains instead of trying to escape. _Kurogiri, please get back soon,_ he thinks despairingly. Izuku fishes in his pockets, tosses some coins on the table, and sits back down.

"Fine," he mutters. "But just to make this clear, I'm going to be the one to win."

Behind them, the cooking pan catches on fire.

* * *

"That's fucking cheating! Take it back!"

"Oh? How is it cheating? I'm just going by the _rules_."

"Can both of you please shut up, it's _my_ turn. Don't make me set the whole damn deck on fire."

Someway, somehow, in the five minutes Kurogiri has been gone, the whole situation has gone to shit. Toga and Mr. Compress are at each other's throats, and Shigaraki has somehow commandeered fifteen cards, which Dabi and Twice both seem to be complaining about. Kurogiri isn't sure what game they're playing, but something tells him that everyone was only supposed to have seven.

"I'm back," he announces, nudging aside some burnt cards to set the bags of groceries down on the table. There's a stench in the air, and when he looks around he can see the cooking pan Toga had been using is irreparably burnt.

Shigaraki reaches into the bag without looking up from his cards, and Kurogiri stifles the concern he has that he's going to ruin all of the groceries with a careless touch. But instead, Shigaraki pauses, calmly lays down his cards, his argument with Twice and Dabi forgotten in an instant, and starts going through everything.

"I can make us eggs," he says, getting up and grabbing oil and eggs from the bag.

"Nooo, you absolutely can't cook!" Toga whines, grabbing his sleeve. "You're just going to poison us so you can win! There's no other reason you'd offer!"

Shigaraki opens his mouth, hesitates, and then sighs. "Fine. But we both know _you_ can't cook either."

The table erupts back into squabbling, and while normally Kurogiri would jump in and offer his services, today… today he is content just watching.

He leans against the wall, thinking, his eyes following Shigaraki as he gets flustered over something Dabi says and starts muttering to himself. _There's some progress_ , he thinks, watching Toga and Shigaraki banter and somehow… get along. Well, if your definition of "get along" means not trying to kill each other every five minutes. Shigaraki is more receptive today to the new recruits, his body language still slightly closed off but still less of a "get out of my way freaks, I'm not talking" and more of a… cautious weariness. It's an improvement in terms of a leader's characteristics, and Kurogiri can't help but think back to his conversation with Sensei conversation the day before.

Sensei was right. It's not surprising, of course, as Sensei is always right, but… _this_ Shigaraki?

Kurogiri can already imagine great things down the road for him.


End file.
